Echoes of Pain Shadows of Love
by FanWhovianChick
Summary: When the universe finally grants the Doctor's prayer it turns out to be more then it seems and with consequences none of them could have imagined.
1. Prologue - Knives in My Heart

Thanks goes out to four wonderful friends who've listened to me whine, fret and gush. Who've read scenes, beta'd, encouraged, acted as a sounding board and so much more. Thank you so much ladies!

Warning that this fic will be a roller coaster! Lots of angst with I hope some parts that make the angst worth it. Hope you enjoy!  
>Additional notes of possible interest are at the bottom.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue - Knives in My Heart<strong>

**"E**stimate? I'd say about 3 to 4 months. That's the best I can give you right now. "

River glanced again at the old Earth style paper planner on her desk. Calendar dates and the busy life of an archeologist and Professor filled in the blank spots. An ironic gift from he-who-mocked-and-could-never-arrive-on-time and tended to fill her life up in all the in-between moments.

"I am certain I can narrow it down in about two weeks. " She finished, vibrant green eyes returning to the monitor on the wall and the dark handsome face watching her.

"I believe I can cope with the delay Professor Song, on one important condition. "

River raised a defined eyebrow, a flirty smirk teasing at the corner of her lips, "Oh, and that would be Mr. Abaraxus? " She knew full well what he wanted, had from the very first moment when they met two months ago at the annual charity ball, where he had spent not only a great deal of time flirting with her but trying to convince her to lead an expedition for him. The recently discovered mysterious Gardens of Gandolion on one of his company's worlds, a great find for the century. She really hadn't needed to be persuaded, but River had never been one to be an easy catch, not even in business.

"Please, call me Sy. " He corrected with an almost pout, " And on the condition we discuss the final arrangements over dinner. Something candlelit is the only suitable arrangement. " Abaraxus finished in his smooth liquid velvet accent. Every thing he said tended to sound like a proposition. Elicit and naughty. She loved it, even if she had no intentions of taking him up on his hidden offers.

Smiling, she toyed with the edge of the planner. "I'd love dinner. " Then held up a finger. "Just dinner."

Sy laughed lightly and raised an inviting eyebrow, "As you wish. One day Professor- " his voice dropped as he said her title, making it sound deliciously dirty, like a fantasy role. "one day."

Was it bad she enjoyed it but pictured a completely different man saying it in the same way? A full smirk played across her lips, "Perhaps...Sy. " River let that sit for a moment before adding, "you'll get a dance as well."

"A dance? Do tell. " He grinned.

"Oh darling, there was no hidden meaning. However, play your cards right and I might just let you get me drunk. " she responded with a wink. Thinking, _Good luck with that._

"You are a terrible tease. So mean to get a man's hopes up."

"I know." She purred. "But you do love it."

"You're right , I do. And on that note and the unfortunate hour, I must bid you reluctant goodnight. Till we speak again over dinner, dance, and drink." He ended the call with smile and a wink, leaving River laughing before she turned back to her terminal monitor.

River scanned through The Library expedition files once more before going back in to chose the last of her team. An excitement that had been growing for months caused an almost girly squeal to rise to the surface. She resisted of course, letting a happy sigh and a smile speak for her instead.

While Mr. Lux was an irritating character, he couldn't dampen the exhilaration she felt whenever she was on the brink of solving a puzzle, a mystery. It wasn't the digging up of ancient civilizations that caused the passion she felt for archeology. It was piecing together what happened when no one else could or even dared to bother, and sometimes when it was just wise not to try.

The danger could never dissuade her. In her younger years it was because she'd been too reckless to care or simply wasn't able to, and later because of an addicting way of life with a man who she trusted to always catch her. One day maybe he wouldn't be able to, and despite all the very real and painful reasons she should heed that notion River found herself unable to imagine it.

Besides, this was the life she_ chose _for herself, not just once but twice. Initially out of a desire to find the Doctor, to understand him. In the end, she fell completely in love with it and couldn't imagine any other profession. He could mock, but he was partially to blame. What did he expect would happen when whisking a girl off into time and space, saving her and handing her the reigns to control her own destiny?

Love for him and Archeology. That was the inevitable consequence. How could it have ever been anything else?

With a slight shake of her head, River refocused her thoughts on the task at hand. "Anita Williams " She liked the look of the young woman's file as she read it for a second time. The woman would be a good fit and was just inexperienced enough to appreciate the work that would go into this.

For probably the umpteenth time, River felt tempted to invite her husband along. Despite any and all claims he'd not enjoy it she knew otherwise. Lights out in the Library, a 100 year quarantine, all with no explanation besides a data extract stating that '4,022 saved' but no survivors.

Right up his alley.

However, as he wouldn't be able to wait for her team to be ready, she resisted sending the message just yet. If he received it now, he'd want to race off right away like a kid with a promise of a treat.

No, best to invite him once she was there. River had to chuckle, wondering how Mr. Lux would react to the presence of The Doctor. The daft, young looking old man in tweed running around poking everything with a proverbial stick. Oh immensely amusing and worth waiting for.

Once Anita's application was accepted, River closed the file and shut everything down. It was late and the idea of a bubble bath and a good book sounded ideal.

She didn't need much sleep so long soaks and a read helped pass the time. Unlike her husband she wasn't bored by the slow path, if anything she enjoyed it, all the normality of it was precious to her.

Grabbing her small tote bag, with her worn out TARDIS blue diary sticking slightly out the top, she headed out the door. With the sound of her heels clacking and resounding down the long corridor of Luna University, River was brought back to years before when she had been a student there, excited and high on feeling empowered. For the first time for as long as she could remember there had been no blank spots in her memories. At that point it had been almost 3 years since Berlin, since she began the path to _her_ life.

The road hadn't been easy. Failure, loneliness and even fear had each had their turn weighing on her. Not to mention times and days when old ghosts echoed in her head and threatened to unravel her precarious control. But his whispered dying words on the steps in Berlin would rise once more to the surface, bringing hope and focus. The man truly had no idea how much of a gift he had given her.

Bypassing the University staff transit system, preferring a less instantaneous method of traveling home, River entered the foyer. It was late enough at night that very few were around, students gone to either study or not, and most anyone else home with loved ones. Only a select few, like herself, along with security staff remained behind.

River blew a kiss affectionately at the pretty security woman who she once 'dated', mostly just as an excuse to get out during a time of loneliness right after Stormcage when he was no where to be found, for three long years.

When pretty Marian with her sharp wit and tender nature found herself going through a bad break up, River couldn't help offering a comforting shoulder. So they had flirted, dined out , indulging each other with pleasant conversation and the occasional delightful kiss. It never had been more and it was all either had needed.

An emotional pick me up till that moment when she had seen his smiling daft face. The only man, or person, she could ever love or share any real intimacy with. He had effectively ruined anyone for her and was completely and utterly clueless to that fact.

They both had snogged and flirted with other people, albeit with him it tended to be accidental, but at the end of it all, it was only ever each other. Frustratingly typical of him to do that to her.

Damn him.

Pausing momentarily as she always did at the mirrors that peppered one of the walls near the entrance, River quickly glanced at her reflection; a habit longed developed from years of dealing with wayward curls.

There was no conscious reason she stopped and stared, nor did she realize that she had. Not at first. Instead her hands some how made their way to gingerly touch her face. As her fingers traced across her skin, she noted a few extra fine lines around her eyes and how much more red her hair had become over time. Neither of those things mattered as her finger tips traced over the apples of her cheeks down to sweep to the outline of her jaw.

A strange fog settled over her, the feeling something wasn't right. It settled deep inside her stomach like a heavy stone. It had happened before, she knew though she couldn't recall exactly when she had last felt this sensation. That she wasn't really seeing her reflection, or how her voice didn't quite sound like her own, and sometimes she thought she could hear things that weren't really there.

But lately these little moments left her disoriented and when she tried to write them down and make sense of them she couldn't quite remember. It made her feel as if perhaps she was simply imagining something was wrong in the first place.

As with every time before, though she did not remember, both her hearts pounded in an odd rhythm like they would do so right out of her chest. "This - " River continued to stare at her reflection, trying to find something she recognized down inside her bones, "This is not me."

"River, dear... are you okay?" A gentle friendly voice cut through the fog and broke the obscure moment.

Closing her eyes she took a deep breath before turning to meet Marian's worried gaze. "Yes. Of course. Just been a long day darling."

Marian put a hand on her arm softly, "You certain? Because I can stick my lazy sod of a partner with the last twenty minutes of my shift and see you home. "

The usual flirty response did not spring forth and River sighed, uncertain as to what she wanted. Her eyes fell of their own accord to her diary and the urge to write, to get this out, seemed to fill up her chest.

The question was... what did she write?

"Maybe the company would be good. " River admitted.

Marian gave a slight nod before turning to yell, not at all gently, to her partner. Tuning their exchange out, River turned back to her reflection and one last time found her fingers running uncertainly along her face.

"I have to tell him." The words came as if from hidden depths in her soul, "this is not my skin."

* * *

><p><strong>I<strong>t was a quiet day, been a quiet if not plainly dull week in fact. No callers, nothing at all to investigate. Not a single criminal life to have for dinner or even turn over to Scotland yard.

As evening approached, Vastra found herself wishing for some sort of case, something that would, preferably, include a bit of action for Jenny, as she deserved a break from the monotony as well.

Sometimes wishes were like asking the gods to drop a hornet's nest in your lap while you slept. She should have known better.

Vastra heard the distant sound of someone at the door and then Jenny answering it. Several minutes passed before her lovely Jenny was standing at the entrance of the lounge. A most decidedly confused look graced her face.

"What is wrong, my dear?"

Jenny gave a weak half smile before coming over and handing her a very non-Victorian looking letter. "This arrived, Ma'am."

Vastra took it slowly, noting only their address in simple and plain script written on the almost TARDIS blue envelope.

"Who delivered it?"

"That's just it ,Ma'am. No one was there, just this on the steps. Evening post I assume..." She trailed off as Vastra picked up her letter opener.

"Normally, I'd say a correct assumption. However, this colour does tend to make one wonder."

Jenny nodded, "It does indeed." Watching as Vastra pulled out an aged folded up paper, something was very familiar about it but Jenny couldn't say why.

Vastra opened the folds carefully and after a minute, gasped as she began to take in the contents scrawled in various directions along the paper.

Jenny waited quietly as her wife read. She was trying to be patient, despite the look of shock that remained on her face the whole time. After several more minutes, in which Vastra had read and reread, she finally handed it over.

Tentatively Jenny took it, not really certain on what she was seeing at first. "I don't understand."

Intermixed with other lines of handwritten text, jenny couldn't quite make out at a glance, were the words "I'm not who I think I am."

"That..."Vastra began, feeling a tension pool in her stomach, "I believe is from River Song's diary."

Understanding now why it had seemed familiar, Jenny closed her eyes slowly in sadness. She'd only seen the diary perhaps twice. Quick glimpses of a thick and aged book of adventures, a life with the Doctor. Yet those glimpses were enough to know it was Professor Song's.

As her eyes fell upon it once again, she noticed in the corner River had written,_ "I'll tell him. When I see him next. At the Library? He'll like the mystery there.I will tell him...I need to know if this is real or something I am imagining. I can't do this again. I can't hurt him again. I love him too much to risk it."_

*/\*

Enjoy..comments and Fav's appreciated!

* * *

><p>This fic started off as two separate 'what if's' that morphed into so much more. That is the nature of the beast I suppose. While i've tagged this fic as a 'fix it' i really see it as a alternate end to s7 that creates an au timeline. I love River and Eleven and I just had to write this.<p>

This fic has become my baby and I hope it's enjoyed, other than my crack fic 'How to Make A Time Lord Blush' i've never written for Doctor Who. So i am both exicted and nervous as heck.

There is psychological trauma and lots of angst. I also write mentions of Rose and other companions with affection because I have loved/liked them all.

Updating of this fic will be hopefully every few weeks if not sooner. Depends on my health


	2. C1 - I'd Give Up Forever to Touch You

The chapter is long and most chapters in this fic will be about this length. But with one or two weeks between updates (if I am lucky) that should be fine, right?

Clara note: I like Clara, not love but I do like, and this Clara is based off of S7. I had started this story before s8 began and so my Clara is not like the Clara from s8, she a sort of amalgamation of what I saw from s7 and my own creation I suppose. So if you don't like her please put it aside for the story. Thanks!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One - I'd Give Up Forever To Touch You<strong>

* * *

><p>-<strong>Twenty-six years after Manhattan<strong>-

**H**e came awake to the sensation of a dainty hand lightly tracing 'love' or 'sweetie' in various languages and symbols over his right heart. Eyes still closed, he began to catalogue the languages, including Gallifreyan. Smiling and chuckling softly when he felt 'sweetie' spelled out in pig latin.

"Did you dream? " A throaty voice sleepily mumbled. He could feel her breath tease across his chest and her lips brush against his skin ever so slightly, loving and enjoyable reminders of the night before.

The Doctor ran a hand slowly over the silky skin of her thigh and the curve of her hip. As he opened his eyes, he took in the beautiful mass of jasmine and spice scented curls that infringed his vision.

"Mmm, a bit. Vague images " He replied tilting his head forward enough to kiss the top of hers, where it rested on his chest.

River moved further up so her eyes could meet his. He adored the soft intimate smile she gave him as their eyes locked. A smile only for him.

"Pleasant I take it? " She asked softly. One of her hands entwined with his between them.

He smiled back and ran a finger tenderly along her jaw line as he replied, "Enough. Red grass, gold red sky... falling silver leaves. "

"Gallifrey" The Doctor loved the breathless way the word spilled from her lips.

"Yes " he nodded, resting his free hand on her side once more, as they now fully faced each other. His brows scrunched together as he tried to recall more of the impressionist like images that had played in his dream. "I think.. there was running. Boy feet... a memory from childhood. I remember a root, a tree root. I use to obsess over it. "

River laughed, and in that moment caused his hearts to skip as it reminded him of the sound of those leaves rustling against each other. It didn't matter that her laugh was nothing like it. River had a way about her that constantly stirred in him memories of home.

"You obsessed over a root? A root?"

The Doctor lightly scowled at her before letting an indulgent grin take over. River loved to hear about Gallifrey, his childhood and the Time Lords, really anything from his life. And when it came to her, he couldn't really resist sharing.

"Yes, a root! It was a cool root! " He defended. "Twisted in on itself in such a way it formed a perfect circle. Nearly perfect, stuck right out this rooty circle. Big enough for me to stick my foot in. I used to lay on the ground and stare up at the branches. My hand through the eye of the root, it often felt like I could feel the tree's life pulse when I did. Like a heart beat. That if I closed my eyes I could see the forming of the world around it. Wasn't until I was older I realized some of what I felt was time sense, the history of the tree and the area itself. "

River reached up to brush a bit of fringe from his eyes. Her eyes were a little sad, though she still wore the smile.

"What's wrong? " he asked.

"Nothing. I just–" She rested her hand against the side of his face, "I just wish I could have seen Gallifrey with you, that you–" She shook her head.

Taking her hand, he kissed her palm. "So do I. " He whispered back and swallowed away the emotion. He knew it hurt her, too. She had a piece of that world in her. She was human, yes, but she was also the child of the TARDIS. Time flowed in her, wrapped itself around her much the same way it did him, any Time lord. Of course she would feel that absence, the hole left by his people, their people.

"I can show you...the root. " He offered. He had shared memories before with her, though not often; sometimes it was simply too painful. What they usually did share was the merging of minds. A melding of feelings, senses, and even thought. Most often when they made love and sometimes just in the company of each other, when it was quiet and all either of them needed was the other. It eased the pain in his hearts, to share that kind of intimacy, where they were no longer two people but for a brief time completely one.

River nodded, her eyes never leaving his, as she sat up and straddled his hips. Her bare skin warm against his own. Gold red curls cascading around him as she leaned down to press her forehead to his. He smiled and ran his hands up her sides before brushing the curls back to cup her face.

The Doctor ran his thumb tenderly over the apple of her cheek. He placed a tender kiss on her lips as he dropped the psychic barrier that guarded his mind and felt her pull hers down.

Her mind was open to him except for a few closed doors. Necessary doors that he also had in his own mind, there to guard spoilers and/or painful bits of past that neither could share.

The feel of her mind touching his was comforting, and the tactile sensation of her skin against his own, along with the feel of the sheet covering them, was quite erotic. He knew his body was reacting and ignored it, sensing her smirk and pleasure at the physical intimacy and his reaction to it.

But more importantly, she waited, like her whole being was holding a breath, for him to show her. He drew her in as he immersed himself in century old memories of a hillside with silver trees and a circular root.

She gasped both out loud and in his mind. While they had shared memories before, each time was still just as startling as the first time. It was more than just a visual sharing... like showing someone a photo. It was more _real_ than that. He let them both sink into the past, the feel of grass beneath bare feet, the beating of twin suns against their backs, the whisper of wind rustling through silver leaves.

In his mind he saw her, white airy dress fluttering lightly around her, gold curls shimmering brightly under Gallifreyan suns like she was an ancient goddess. The image made complete by her bare feet moving with grace and ethereal green eyes taking in every minute detail his memory conjured up.

While he was transfixed by her beauty paired with his home world, River made her way up the little hillside to the trio of trees. The tree on the far right leaned slightly, causing some of it's silver adorned branches to cast strange shifting shadows, tempered by peaks of sunlight over the ground.

It created quite an affect, and he smiled as he watched her go stand before it, caught up in it's mesmerizing display. Eventually her eyes caught sight of the root that sat hidden beneath the dancing shadows.

She glanced over at him with twinkling eyes as he came to stand beside her. "I can see what would fascinate a child. How old were you?"

"A few years into the Academy. Ten perhaps. " He replied. His chest suddenly aching as he was reminded that all of this; the daisy, the root, red sky and everyone he'd ever loved or cared about was gone. At his hands.

After a moment of quiet contemplation between them over the old tree root, River turned to face him, taking both his hands in hers.

"We don't have to stay." He started to protest but she shook her head and put a finger to his lips, "No don't tell me you're okay. You're forgetting I can feel what this is doing to you. "

He took a deep breath, "I'm fine. Yes, it hurts, but I am fine." He brought their hands up close to his chest between them and poured his sincerity out for her to feel, "I _wanted_ to show you this. I am happy to show you this. "

River searched his eyes before leaning up to kiss him tenderly, running a hand up his chest to stop as it often did to adjust his bowtie. Like everything in the memory created reality around them, the kiss felt just as real as if they were truly standing there on a hill top under the shade of silver trees.

The Doctor found the kiss was far too chaste for his liking and couldn't help himself from leaning forward, following her as she pulled away. He sighed and she rolled her eyes playfully. "Ready?" she asked.

At his nod, River smiled softly before sitting down on her knees, placing her hand into what she had to admit was a nearly perfect circle. It was hard to tell where either end of the root started with how it formed back in on itself.

She gave a long almost guttural moan as he dug deep to find the cherished memories of what he felt every time he had done exactly what she was doing now. They began to trickle in at first, just brief glimpses, flashes of life before they began swelling in. Some of what he could share could only be seen as colours and others only felt by the senses: Life, death, and rebirth. Over and over, everything was bursting and flowing, drowning and erupting . History unfolded and laid out like an exploding star spreading ever outward and it all came from the small patch of earth beneath them.

After a while The Doctor became lost in the webs of time that came with later memories from a grown man. One who understood time sense and how to follow not only along the path of the past but see the strands of possible futures.

It hadn't been with intent. It never was, but it was one reason he never did this on his own, relived old memories in this way. The temptation was too great to bask, or in his case suffocate, in what had passed and when it came to Gallifrey it always ended in pain.

"Doctor NO! You can't! "

It was a funny thing to feel himself drown and feel her alarm, her fear for him as if it was his own. She was right, of course, he couldn't afford to go down that path. To trace the history of that root to it's end, Gallifreys end. Yet he hesitated, whether from a macabre curiosity or perhaps self punishing desire, he couldn't say.

His hesitation earned him a slap he felt both in reality and in his connection with her. The memory faded away till it was just the sensation of her mind sending waves of love and reassurance, while her hands stroked along his back, shoulders, and down his arms. At some point he had sat up fully with her in his lap.

"Sorry...I didn't mean, I wasn't trying -" He whispered against her lips.

"Hush my love " She returned before her mouth fell over his. Lips and tongue burning like fire against his in a heady contrast against the waves of tender love emanating from her mind.

The Doctor knew what this was, a distraction. Her protecting him from himself the only way she knew how. His River held no condemnation for him, for his mistakes or choices that threatened, always threatened to overwhelm him if he let them. Instead she made him face things when he needed to, and at other times she joined him as he ran away.

That alone gave him so much love for her. How or why she loved him at all he would never understand but he didn't need to. He knew he had it, could feel the depth of her love vibrate off her and pour into him and that was all that mattered, all he needed.

So he returned it, letting her feel all that she meant to him and all the millions of reasons why. Her arms had come up around his neck, her hands fisting his hair.

Their kiss had gone from a passionate embrace to a competition over who could dominate with teeth, nips and growls. Eventually his hands released their own grip around her and in her hair to caress along her back and sides.

Groaning as she nipped at his neck, her nails scraped across his back leaving fire in their wake. His hands found themselves once again in her glorious hair.

River moaned as he trailed hot, open mouthed kisses across her jaw and down her neck. Biting and scraping his teeth along her skin, before he pulled away so he could look into her eyes, cup her face. As their eyes locked, he felt tempted to say it out loud, three words they never said but implied continually.

Words that sometimes meant nothing they were given so easily, but other times those words could heal souls.

In their case they had the ability to shatter each other. For one day he would send her off to die, and one day she would run into a version of him who saw her as nothing more than a stranger. How could either of them recover if they said what could never be unsaid?

The Doctor swallowed back the words, keeping to the unspoken agreement. Mourning , as he often did, what they could never have.

"You mean everything to me " He thought to her instead, aching from the unshed tears that sat in her eyes.

"And you me. All that I have. " The word, _left_ remained un-thought but it's existence couldn't be denied. The loss of her parents was a burden on them both, the passing years since Manhattan had not lightened the load.

This time when their lips met it wasn't to distract or compete but to give every ounce of love and adoration to the other. A tender caress of lips, mouths, fingers and hands, a thorough exploration of skin by taste, physical worship to reflect the depth of love.

As they made love, he opened himself as fully as he could. Shutting behind doors only the parts of himself she could never see, allowing her in to places she had not yet been. He wanted and needed her to cover everything inside of him, to crawl into his bones and replace damaged marrow.

Her mind hummed in approval and reciprocated. Willingly drowning him in her and seeking out the same in him. After a while there was no real distinction between the two of them, like the root so merged together the beginning of one and end of the other could not be found.

Her love for his hands and how they felt on her body reverberated between them. Just like his love for the burn under her jaw, as his tongue traced along it. It was a scar that could not be seen, only felt. He wasn't sure why nor could completely understand how feeling and knowing that the scar was there both aroused and comforted him.

River hummed again, this time from his thoughts and mouth lavishing over her scar. Her pleasure at feeling his spurred them both on. Rhythm, pace, and even ecstasy exponentially swelling, spilling over them, emotionally connecting them on a level neither had ever felt before.

Later as she slept in his arms, the Doctor cried. Silent tears etching lines into his face, creating invisible scars. He knew, he had seen it in her mind, the time for The Library had come.

It had flowed over him and seeped into his unconscious mind to settle on the surface once they had spent each other out.

All that saved him from having to explain his pain was that she slept on in peaceful ignorance. River had no idea that her excitement of coming plans, one which included an expedition to The Library, was killing him. That she should have locked it away behind a door.

Now he lay there knowing. Soon. It could not be avoided. Not that long ago she had ran into him on Asgard with a different face. That him had known who she was. He had been friendly enough from his guilt and oh so weary from his losses, too weary to do anything other then make it a pleasant enough experience for her. So much so that his wife had believed she had time yet before the day she dreaded.

Only her nightmare was ever so close. The same nightmare that was also the demon he could never escape. There was nothing he could do but let her go, so they... their love could ever have a chance.

He would not, could not rob her of that, no matter how much it would kill him. So the Doctor held her closer, cried silently into her curls and prayed to the universe for something he knew he'd never get.

* * *

><p>-<strong>Victorian London - Many years later <strong>-

**H** is face was wet. The very first thought that hit him as his eyes flew open and the dream faded.

With a groan the Doctor rubbed his hands slowly down his face more out of pain than the care of the tears that had fallen.

_Why wouldn't it stop?_

He really wished it would. The dreams of her, the memories of her and even at times the feel of her presence there with him. While he deserved nothing less than this torment, he still desired it to end.

Sometimes, oh sometimes, in rare moments when he could truly be honest with himself, he entertained thoughts on how to achieve that end.

But they would pass. Why should he have peace when he had sent her off to die? When it was his fault so many lives were ruined? Or any of the million of reasons he felt he wasn't a good man.

_a good man..._

_Yes a good man, the best man I've ever known._

_No,_ he thought with a shake of his head as he stared at the ceiling, hearing her voice in his head._ I really wasn't._

With a growl of frustrated despair, and annoyed he had dozed off in the first place the Doctor sat up straight in the jump seat by the console. He forced himself to retrieve, which to be honest he wasn't really reading, from the floor in the semi-darkness.

Funny enough ,when the dim light caught the crimson cover, he was reminded of the dream. Well more accurately the memory of River, them in bed. Love and heartache all tangled together under sheets and the weight of painful knowledge.

Dreams were demons.

When he had first come out of the war, he had avoided sleep so he wouldn't dream. It was too painful to sleep and remember. The Time Lord curse of sleep... when one needed it, it was to have such vivid dreams. Memories, fears come to light or even cryptic foretelling. _More real_ and potent than what any human could imagine.

Dreams were just another reality. Rose coming into his life had slowly lightened the shadows of that reality, so if he gave in and slept or when he had no choice, it wasn't so hard. But her loss had made it worse, it wasn't just war and Gallifrey he dreamt of but a thousand different ways to save the girl, keep her with him, say the words he had failed to say.

Donna had lightened the load too, though not because he had been in love with her but by her simple friendship. She had made it better in a different way and again for a short while he escaped Rose, war and turmoil just a bit when he slept.

But losing Donna, and then Rose again had brought all back with a unrelenting fire that grew like sun about to nova while he raced from death. He had thought he was going to die. Knock four times and be the end of him, not just that version but _him_.

It didn't matter that he had seen a hint of a future where he had moved on, the fateful meeting of River Song. No ... because time could be rewritten. Time was always being rewritten to some extent, even fixed points couldn't escape the ever slow shift.

Running only earned him pain, running meant losing his mind and becoming something he had never wanted to be, not again, not after the war.

In the end he could not run or escape his fate. Only his fate had not been what he thought it was suppose to be. He condemned his people once again and saved an old man who truly was so much more worthy of life than he was. And in doing so he didn't just regenerate, he was renewed, old wounds healed just enough.

Not enough to escape the dreams however. Dreams, the never ending reminders and torments of a damaged soul. So it really had become a surprise when the woman he tried to avoid, because falling in love again seemed like another way to go mad, was the very way to escape his torment.

Oh, he did dream still, but in time as he fell for River who flowed into his life, flooding everything as she did, the dreams changed. They didn't just lighten as before. No, they changed almost completely. War, pain, loss, Rose, Donna.. all of that were still there at times but more often he remembered good days and dreamt of happy nonsensical things. It had been so long since he had a dream with little purpose other than to simply be; it had been one of the most beautiful gifts he had received from her.

He would sleep in Rivers arms and feel safe. The only left over torment was the one he managed to avoid successfully because he couldn't afford for her to see. Her death.

When that death finally came, so did everything else. The dreams of fire returned, as did everyone he had ever lost, the ones where he saved them, any of them in a billion ways. And even worse the foretelling ones.

As his eighth self they had been regular and often cryptic, he would write them down and move on. For much of what he saw he never understood until after the fact. But since the loss of his wife he dreamt things he knew would happen and others he felt had meaning, but they weren't content to live on a page and be swept away and forgotten.

They persisted. And the dream just now, the memory of showing her the root. Making love, of her scar, rang in his head like the TARDIS cloister bell. It meant something, had to…_but what?_

With an undignified snarl the Doctor jumped up from his seat, aggressively grabbing his jacket and top hat and refused a moment longer to entertain another thought on any of it. He would walk the streets of London and not think of her, of them, the dreams, nor any of the things he wasn't able to change.

* * *

><p>- <strong>Present Day<strong> -

**"N**ow, where did I put that? Wasn't it green? " The Doctor mumbled from somewhere underneath the console piece he was working on.

Clara didn't comment. She was supposed to be reading while she waited for him to finish, but her thoughts kept distracting her.

Lately, things had been different between them. Not necessarily in the way she possibly hoped for, and by possibly, it meant in the way she wasn't ready to admit to herself or was even completely sure she actually felt.

Clara hated the confused adolescent feelings. By this point in her life she shouldn't feel so... lost. She knew it was a bit of a crush but there were times when she wondered if it was more.

The Doctor was wonderful. Mysterious in a bewildering way with a certain draw about him. So, if honest, it really wasn't all that surprising that certain feelings were felt. But on the same vein he was mental, scary, and emotionally not available.

While some of that could be over come with time, one thing could not. If he wasn't receptive she had no chance even if she really wanted to pursue something. Which she honestly couldn't say for sure she did.

Clara frowned, only half listening as he tinkered with something on top of the console, this was why these thoughts were pointless. She had no idea how she really felt about him and was pretty darn sure he was gay.

It was possible he swung both way, considering he did have his flirty moments with her, very possible.

But what sealed it for her on him at least being gay was a certain name he mention with a particular tone and look on his face.

Oh, he mentioned other names. People who used to travel with him. He often rambled on about past adventures, extolling all the wonderful qualities of his old friends. Be wistful and even occasionally depressed.

Clara had come to realize that he worked hard to avoid painful memories. If a story started to head in what seemed that direction he would suddenly shift it or grow quiet for a moment before changing the topic completely. That was usually when he would later sulk for a bit before bouncing back as if nothing was wrong.

There was one absolute about him that applied to every situation Clara had learned fairly quickly. The Doctor did not discuss anything unless he really wanted to, or if she was lucky she caught him at a weak moment. But even then, only if he was willing.

He was the very definition at times for 'tight lipped'.

The people he most often spoke of were his Ponds as he called them. A married couple, who must have been very special to him from the way he talked and certainly not least was the enigmatic Professor Song.

The latter was why she started realizing that any flirting between them was really one-sided and often just a case of them getting caught up in a moment, or her desire to see him flustered.

The Doctor was quite amusing when flustered and seemingly scandalized.

The thing was he never started the flirting intentionally and if he realized he tended to get awkward which made Clara realize that he had an ex. Had to with how he reacted, and likely with barrel full of baggage.

Just her luck. Traveling in space and time with a handsome gay alien who was hung up on his ex.

What sealed it though was how the Doctor spoke of Professor Song, with loving admiration but no real helpful details. She knew Amy had once worked as a kiss-o-gram and was an adventurous red head. Her husband Rory a dedicated nurse with a distinct prominent nose and serious skills with a sword. Yet the Professor? The only thing she had been able to figure out was that he had been an archaeologist and the Doctor once let it slip that his first name started with an 'R'.

Robert? Ron? Reginald?

What kind of R name went with Song anyway?

In the end the lover angle was confirmed when the Doctor had mentioned accidentally, while telling her a (mostly vague) story, how they had ended up in a bed. Would have seemed innocent except he had babbled on about hiding always turning into a _hands_ on situation.

Once he realized his slip he had turned a remarkable shade of crimson and began to stammer nonsense, looking like he'd swallowed a pack of Sour Patch Kids. It reminded her of her friend Sari who pulled a similar face when she got caught mentioning a boy she wasn't supposed to know in front her parents.

Thoroughly convinced the Professor was a lover, Clara had been hard pressed to entertain the feelings she didn't want to admit to possibly having. There was no way she was competing with a ghost or memory or ex lover.

Not happening.

Now here they were not quite two weeks after the ordeal of almost crashing the TARDIS and he was lighter, more carefree then he had been before. It was like some invisible weight had been lifted off him. Which was a bit odd considering, as he had later admitted, that they had lived through an alternate timeline where the TARDIS had been on the verge of exploding and apparently things had been pretty hairy. She was fairly sure he had even mumbled something about zombies creatures who were not zombies.

As usual Clara knew he had only given her a partial story but let it go as he just had seemed, _happier_. That happiness had not left even after a couple days.

He smiled at her more often, it reached his eyes in a way it hadn't before and she was loathe to risk losing it.

Of course the one thing the almost crash did for them both was deter either of them from the idea of her attempting to pilot the TARDIS.

That morning, however, he had surprised her with an idea over breakfast. He would, safely and with no risk, teach her some basics as he suddenly felt she should know something just in case of an emergency.

Which led to them roaming the ship and it's endless corridors to gather pieces before they ended up in some sort of garage. It was huge with various bits and bobs of alien technology spread through out, some bigger than the outside of the TARDIS. Interspersed among it all were, what she guessed were tools. Half of which she couldn't fathom the purpose of.

"Ah ha! And Done! " Came the sudden exclamation punctuated with an ungodly clang, startling her out of her thoughts and quite literally out of her skin.

Clara dropped the book and pressed a hand to her chest, glaring at the grin on the time lords face. "You really need to stop doing that!"

He frowned looking contrite for all of five seconds, " Sorry!" And then it was gone replaced once more with his goofy grin.

"I really don't know why I never thought of doing this before." He was saying as he moved from the far side of the makeshift mock up of the TARDIS console. "Would have made teaching Donna so much easier and less stressful."

Clara jumped down from where she had been sitting on some old looking crate type things, oddly enough it's surface had actually been kind of soft. "Also would have saved us living two days in the space of one. " She remarked, mimicking his own words.

The Doctor nodded as he moved towards her, almost looking like he was going to argue her point but instead replied, "True though sometimes double days have their merits.

And there returned the cryptic comments.

"So why did you teach Donna?" Clara wasn't entirely certain as to why she asked that question. Probably something to do with the fidgety body language and far off look in the Doctor's eyes.

"Did the TARDIS not like her either?"

"No. No, had no problem with her that I knew of. Besides Clara, she doesn't dislike you... " He leaned against the mock up.

"If she doesn't like me don't you think it means she dislikes me? " She pointed out. Picking up her book and setting it on the crate.

He frowned, "I told you she's like a cat, just needs time." He slapped the towel in his hand lightly against the top of her head. "Donna was good at nagging me once she decided she wanted to try something." He added with a soft smile, putting levers and what not into various positions.

Clara had the feeling 'nagging ' was an exaggeration and that he hasn't minded in the slightest.

"Anyway, it was mostly just teaching her how to fly through the Vortex, basic travel ...as basic as it can be, from a. to b. nothing fancy." Clara's heart dropped a little at the sudden sad shift in his eyes. "We never did finish..."

Not wanting to risk him losing that happiness Clara changed the subject, "How am I to know what is for what when this console doesn't exactly look like THE console?" She nodded with raised brows to the mishmash of things. There was faucet handles, what looked like a bike horn, and possibly even a set of trumpet pistons, none of which indicated what they were meant for.

The Doctor perked up and looked at her, "Oh well. It's not about how the parts look, but where they are positioned. I've had many versions of the console. Some more...eccentric I suppose than others. This is sort of a combination of two desktops I had before the current one along with whatever else I could find."

"Desktops?"

"Yeah, what the TARDIS console room looks like, the theme or style. Desktop. Like on a computer."

"Oh. " Clara nodded, "Okay so all this corresponds to the buttons and toggles on the other console?"

"Yep. Same function, just different ... icons if you will. Now the TARDIS almost always sets the layout based on where you come in from the doors. In this case- " He took a step to the right and started to move past the crate she'd been sitting on when his arm brushed up against it, knocking her book to the floor.

Clara rolled her eyes with a smile. He had tendency to lack arm or more precisely limb control. It often seemed like they had minds of their own and he was permanently in a state of surprise by that fact.

He bent down and picked up the book, turning it over to see the cover. Clara watched as he silently read the title "In the Eleventh Hour" and his soulful eyes jumped to the name of the author. His face lit up brightly while his voice cracked just a little, "You read Amelia Williams?"

The smile on his face was the biggest she had seen in ages. Contrasted sharply by the emotion in his eyes and voice, it made her heart skip a beat.

"Yeah. Really loved the first two of her series and I've been eager to start the third, figured it was a good time." She answered, curious at the way his fingers traced over 'Amelia'. "Doctor...Have you met her?"

Her question broke the spell and he looked up at her as if startled before his features settled into a mask of nostalgia, he smiled softly but his eyes were sad.

The Doctor gently put the book aside and took a deep breath, "Yeah, oh so long ago."

Unsure how to proceed Clara grabbed for the first rambling thought that popped in her head, "I bet she is.. was.. is fun." Deciding to stick to present tense considering he had a time machine, " With how she writes the adventures I can't picture her being any other way. What is she like?"

"Yes, she was fun. Adventurous." The Doctor responded while he moved to the other side of the console, flipping a couple of more switches and levers. Adding in almost a whisper, "She was someone a bit out of her _time._" It became clear he was trying to avoid looking at her and behaving as if he was in the console room. Something which seemed to dawn on him as his hands fell away from a lever, he had already moved pointlessly three times, and took a step back.

It was obviously a bad topic but Clara had no idea why or how to fix it so when he looked up a moment later and loudly announced it was time to start the lesson she let him. Pretending nothing was amiss and getting fully involved. Within a few minutes it was if it had all been forgotten as the lesson became quite intensive.

It was fun even if often confusing. It seemed a great deal of flying the TARDIS was about where you stood in conjunction to something else and in what order things got pushed, pulled, and or twisted.

Once they went over the basics of do's and don'ts and where to stand The Doctor began to show her the steps to fly the TARDIS if she ever needed to get herself home on her own and the emergency protocol failed to. She had only begun to become aware that it had to be nearly tea time when they were interrupted by a trilling sound.

"Yep.. stand there and walk two paces, remember - ." He was saying as they ran through the routine again, stopping mid sentence and tilting his head.

Clara looked up hearing it too.

It continued on and on and though it sounded muffled it became quite clear what they were hearing.

"Why is there a phone ringing?" Clara asked as she met the Doctor's perplexed expression. He scratched his head before glancing around.

"I didn't even know this garage had a phone" He spun about several times, hands pointing in different directions as he tried to locate the source.

"Who would be calling you, though? I mean how do you even get calls?" Clara wondered aloud as she began to look for the phone. The ringing seemed to be coming from all over as it echoed around the large area.

The Doctor stopped his phone investigation to momentarily give her an exasperated look. "I get phone calls. It's _why_ I have a phone in the console room." Clara rolled her eyes at herself for forgetting that.

"Yeah, but _who_ calls you? " She didn't get the impression that any of his former companions called or traveled with him anymore. He had made it seem to her that he hadn't traveled with anyone for quite a while before her.

"There are a number of...people. I've lived a long life Clara, I make friends! Or associates I guess you can say. People who call me!" He ended on a huff before shouting. "And gotcha!"

Clara jumped again and shot him a glare he didn't see. She watched as he quickly began to scramble over an area haphazardly stacked with alien junk. Though he could be so ungainly with his flailing arms and legs a good deal of the time, he was also extremely quick and deft at others. He covered the cluttered space, well over thirty feet, within a few minutes with only one yelp of pain.

The Doctor ended his journey to stand on a slightly tilted pod looking thing with what looked like horns sticking out the sides. Reaching down next to the wall, and triumphantly bringing out the still ringing phone a moment later.

"Hello!" He spoke into it with ease as if he hadn't just been clambering about. "Ah Vastra! My favorite Silurian."

He threw her a smile and pointed at the phone while mouthing. "See, a friend!"

Clara shook her head with a laugh. He grinned before focusing his attention back on the call. "Right right."

Sitting back on the crate, Clara noted when she looked back up at him the awkward glance he flicked her way as he replied into the phone, "Ohhhh, just...tinkering. Nope, not busy. Everything alright? You sound upset...Jenny and Strax okay?"

He went quiet, fidgeting with the phone cord, brows furrowed in concern before lifting in relief."oh, good good...Was there a - "

Trying not to listen in, though it was a bit impossible when the sound carried easily and the Doctor was making no attempt to keep his conversation private, still she felt relief that his friend was okay. That relief died quickly when she watched as the colour completely drained from his face. "Are...are you certain?" He began to shake like a leaf and Clara grew concerned he was going to fall from his precarious perch.

He cleared his throat and closed his eyes, the shaking stopped as he seemed to gain a hold over his nerves. "I'll be right with you. "

The Doctor hung up the phone and looked over at her, his eyes having lost all that happiness he had had for the last few weeks. Leaving a lump in Clara's chest.

* * *

><p><strong>T<strong>hey sat in her lounge, the Doctor some what rigid on the settee with a perplexed Clara beside him. A slightly awkward silence had settled over them once Vastra had given a brief account on the arrival of the letter and what it contained.

When the Doctor broke the silence it was almost flippant, eerily so."I'm sure it's nothing. River had likely been in some mischief and it resolved itself. " He waved a hand as if to dismiss any other notion.

Vastra eyed his body language more than she listened to his words. Word were often lies and with the Doctor this was a truth more often than with anyone else.

He lied to save, he lied to defeat and he lied to protect. What concerned her more than any of that was the lies he told himself.

His words told her he was pretending but the tension she could see in his frame spoke of fear. The kind of fear one has when they know they are to receive bad news.

The question was with River already gone, what exactly did he fear from the bit of her diary that he had yet to see?

"Ah! tea" he exclaimed as Jenny brought in a tray. Her eyes glancing curiously to Clara. Vastra shared that feeling as she watched the girl. The only thing the Doctor said in a quick aside was it was not the same Clara. Yet everything about her so far seemed alike. It was uncanny.

With a sigh, Vastra let him finish one of Jenny's pastries before she decided to press the matter, thankful Strax wasn't there at the moment. "Doctor, we both know River would have at least mentioned it if that was the case. "

He didn't respond, pretending he hadn't heard as he was inclined to do. Something which she knew simply wasn't true.

"I'm sorry I'm a little lost. Who ..." Clara asked softly when the silence started to stretch again, " is River?"

All eyes fell on her and Vastra noted as she glanced at the Doctor an odd and pained expression cross his face. Knowing it was likely to hard for him to explain Vastra answered for him. "River, she was his- " She couldn't help looking at Jenny before she finished, "River Song was his wife."

"Oh" Clara sat back a bit at that and like the Doctor she pulled an odd expression though hers was tinged with confusion rather than pain, Vastra wished she understood the subtext of it. "I am so sorry." The girl turned in her seat to the Doctor, her hand hovering over his own hesitantly before it finally settled to hold it.

He squeezed the girls hand, seeming to draw strength from the act, something which Vastra was grateful for.

Clara suddenly gave a puzzled frown, "Oh, wait... You mean Professor Song?" Glancing from Vastra to the Doctor who began to over analysis a pastry.

Vastra gave the girl a slight nod, "Yes. " She didn't like how The Doctor was trying to appear disinterested.

Clara sat back and glanced at the Doctor again, a clear mix of annoyance and confusion plainly written on her face that warred momentarily with the her empathy. Vastra could feel it off her, like a wave. She couldn't help but wonder what the Doctor had done to illicit this from the girl.

With him who knew? He was not only the brilliant genius but the daft idiot at times, an apt remark she remembered River saying once. The thought made her sad and her eyes went to Jenny again before she attempted to gain his attention.

"Doctor. We must deal with this. "

He continued to stare at the pastry, pretending to be oblivious to Clara. He responded low barely audible, "She's gone -" he closed his eyes as if he had lost patience for a moment. "What would be the point... in... "

"I know. Yet I do believe Doctor, you should at least read it. Perhaps, " She conceded. Hoping her next words would snap him out of it. "It isn't important and it is merely coincidence that it arrived at this time."

The Doctor's head shot up and he gave her blank stare as he whispered, "There is no such thing as coincidences. "

Vastra stared back intently. "Then it is important you read for yourself. It may not even be Rivers. "

When he gave no sign of disagreeing Vastra nodded to Jenny, "I wish I did not have to speak of any of this but it mentions the library. She seemed intent on telling you something there. "

This time, the doctor looked at her sharply and she felt a shiver go down her spine at the flash of anger in his eyes.

Jenny handed over the letter. He took it but did not open it, rather his eyes closed and he gave a long shuddering breath.

After a long moment and with a slightly shaky hand he brought the letter to his nose and breathed in.

It smelled of her. Jasmine, exotic spices, time. It was a cruel irony that she smelled of time when she had so little of it.

Opening his eyes the Doctor turned the folded sheet over in his hand. Taking in the worn edges, aged colour of the paper, the evidence of years. Of constant loving wear and tear from long life put to paper.

He didn't need to open it all the way to know it was hers, a brief glance was all he needed to confirm it was her handwriting.

Her familiar scrawl along with the smell and condition of the paper caused painful memories to tease at the fringes of his thoughts, bringing an ache in his chest as he struggled to keep intimate moments at bay. Ones of her on their bed recording their adventures, slapping at him playfully when he threatened to look (never mind it was his rule that he didn't see). He could almost hear the sound of her charcoal pencil scratching at paper as he'd wake to find her sketching him asleep. Her laughter and scolding when he'd purposely pulled a silly expression till she noticed.

There was no way now he could open it and read a single word without possibly bursting both his hearts. There was just too much River held there, another way she haunted him.

Putting the paper down into his lap, the Doctor shook his head. "It's hers but it doesn't mean anything. " His tone establishing the conversation was done. Coincidence or not he really couldn't afford to care.

Of course Vastra heeded that as well as River would have or just about the vast majority of the head strong companions he'd had over the centuries. Why would it stop now when he really needed it to?

"How can you declare it has no meaning, no implications when you've not yet read it? " Said simply with no reproach though that did not stop him from feeling chastised and frustrated.

He stood abruptly and glared at her "She's an echo. "

"Is she? "

He waved the sheet as he snapped, "This... this is pointless. Whatever it may be it doesn't mean anything here and now! "

Vastra hissed in response. The exchange caused the tension in the room to go up more than a few degrees. Jenny instinctively took a step closer to Vastra while Clara stood up and placed a hand on the Doctors arm. "Doctor? Please..."

He ignored her as he continued to glare at the Silurian woman who returned it with a far calmer air about her. What seemed like minutes to the younger women was in fact only seconds when Vastra tilted her head and sternly asked, "Or is that how you want it to be? You can't out run everything Doctor. You more than anyone knows the truth of this. "

The Doctor's glare turned sharper as he practically growled, "And that is why I cant!" He pulled away from Clara and began to pace. "I ran from her and yet she _still_ died and I still fell in lo.." He shook his head and looked away, unable and unwilling to finish those words. " ... I saved an imprint of her, an echo, a detailed echo of her memories, feelings and thoughts but in the end she River, _my_ River is dead!" The anger that had grown in his voice slipped till all they could hear was the anguish threatening to take over.

"An echo you went to great lengths to keep alive." He couldn't deny it. He spent countless years modifying an older model of his screwdriver just to save her in the only way he could.

When he didn't reply Vastra added, "I think you owe it to yourself and to her to ..."

He shook his head, a sense of defeat filling him, "I can't. "

"I did not mean the library."

At his confused expression Vastra continued, " A conference. Dream conference?"

He stared blandly at her some what baffled by the suggestion. "Dream conference? How? She's not asleep Vastra."

Jenny placed a hand on Vastra's shoulder, "Doctor, we have conferenced with her before. Well since the... library I mean."

The Doctor didn't need to say anything for it to be clear on the questions rolling through his head.

"Some time ago we had conferenced in order to deal with an unexpected matter." Vastra waved a hand at his unspoken question on why, "it doesn't matter, she appeared and was more than able to help. And no, I do not know how. When I did ask, her reply was to say that if she was ever needed I would only need to conference and desire her company. Since than we have inquired of her help only once. "

He frowned, "Are you certain it wasn't her from earlier point in her time stream."

"Yes. She seemed to have made a point of making sure we knew which her was with us. "

The Doctor gave a slight nod. He knew why River had made that clear. Her way of passing on the message that she hoped he'd give in and see her. Something he wasn't capable of doing.

_Coward._

Clara, who had stood quietly by trying to keep up, was the one to ask the question the other two women had wondered about. "If River is.. an echo, how is she able to do this dream conference? Cause I am assuming that it requires one to be asleep and dreaming, and I get I really have no idea what I am talking about but I didn't get the impression that she should be .. able to."

Looking from Clara to Vastra and then to Jenny, the Doctor sighed before nodding at the TARDIS. "I imagine she plays a part in it. Being a child of the TARDIS has certain privileges."

Vastra nodded in understanding, "Ah. " While it made sense to her, the Doctors answer only made to confuse Clara more.

"I'm sorry. I don't follow." She glanced between the Doctor, who looked distracted, and the other two women.

"River was conceived while the TARDIS was in the time vortex. It made her more than human."Vastra explained, "She was as close to a Time Lord as any human could be, and from what I understand it gave her a special relationship with the TARDIS. I imagine that the ship herself established and likely maintained the connection with the dream conference."

Vastra looked back to the Doctor, leaving Clara to absorb what she had just been told. "We can dream conference Doctor. A way to check on her and clear all of this with her diary up."

"I .. can't" This time there was no anger in his eyes at he turned to look at her just sorrow, " I'm sorry but I can't"

"I do understand Doctor. " She imagined she'd be quite difficult if not dead from revenge if Jenny had died. Love and grief were a dangerous combination. "Jenny and I can conference with her and relay any messages either of you wish to impart."

The Doctor stared at the floor as she finished. Vastra had a sense that he was fighting an inner battle, she hoped he could be brave enough in his pain to let them do this.

To her dismay and startlement of all he suddenly turned and went into the TARDIS without word. Clara sat there shocked for a moment before getting up and going after him, disappearing into the TARDIS.

"Are we to conference? " Jenny asked confused.

Vastra eyed the TARDIS before giving her wife attention, "No, my dear that wasn't an answer. We wait." She picked up her tea and smiled softly at Jenny who smiled back before she took a seat and picked up her own tea. "I have a feeling we won't be waiting long."

Jenny raised her brows in question. Vastra nodded to the police box slightly opened doors, "Clara, my dear. He has Clara and that may make all the difference."

It was a great hope that her words were true. That the young woman with the same name and likeness of her Victorian counterpart would be able to get through to the weary old Time Lord.

* * *

><p>Would love to hear what ppl think! <p>


	3. C2 - Of all these fragments I can't fake

Giving you this a day early because I'm having the week from hell and it makes me happy to post this.

Special thanks to my Beta Bree who was eager and right on top of editing my mess. Thanks babe!

**Chapter Two - Of all these fragments I can't fake**

* * *

><p>There had only been a few occasions in his long life where he could feel her presence so strongly, though he was always aware of her, like a favorite warm comforting blanket. But in times like this it felt as if she was screaming at him.<p>

He had walked away from the women with no real idea of what he was going to do. He only knew that he needed to step away. He needed to do something other than entertain ideas of seeing her. How could he possibly talk to River after he stuck her in that place? Did he regret 'saving' her? Yes, everyday and yet with equal measure he didn't because a part of her still alive kept him going. And it was those conflicting emotions that had his head pounding.

He wasn't sure how he had ended up so deeply in the TARDIS. He was far past any of the rooms even only occasionally used. In these corridors were places unseen, others untouched and some that were meant to be forgotten.

That was when the blanket of security was ripped off for no more than a second. The sharpness of it, along with the void it left, doubled him over momentarily leaving his bones aching as if they'd been stripped of muscle, tendon and flesh. A cold spread over him, tingling across his skin and he knew the TARDIS had something to say.

"Why?" He asked out loud. He screamed it into the emptiness, hearing it echo down the halls. Why should he go back and deal with this when she was gone? What did it matter? Why couldn't they all just leave him alone?

'Why' the most unfair question of them all. Why did she have to die ? Why couldn't he have saved her? Why did he never tell her he loved her and said goodbye?

The time ship didn't answer in words but he felt the long emotion filled hum pull at him as if she responded straight into his veins. It was both a reprimand and a shared touch of grief and comfort. It took the frustrated anger and anguish and burned it out of him, leaving him with just the embers to heat up his insides.

"I know old girl, I know" He said as he stopped to touch a wall, running a hand soothingly along and eventually leaning against it and taking a real good look at where he was. Something about this corridor was oddly familiar. Nothing stood out to be particularly remarkable about the hall itself so it had to be one of the rooms. The TARDIS had directed him there for a reason.

He had passed one with an open doorway that led to the twilight garden. The plants there were nocturnal, unique, and immensely fragile, which is why they were situated so far from the console room. No accidental visits. Near the garden there were several other rooms with closed doors but they gave no indication of importance.

At the end of the corridor, however, was an dark aged wooden door with 'In remembrance ' written in circular gallifreyian carved into it... Oh yes, he remembered now why this part of the TARDIS was familiar. Behind that door was where he buried each of them. They lived on without him, the lucky ones, but regardless of the lives they had this is where they all ended up for him, where he placed the memories of each and every one of them.

There was still bits of them all scattered about the TARDIS of course. Whispers of life echoing through the ship, but it was this room that held everything he worked to forget and everything he never could. The Doctor put his hand on the door, spreading his fingers wide, willing himself to turn the handle and step inside.

_A coward. That's what I am, not at all in a noble sense but in every way that proves her wrong. I'm not a good man._

His eyes fell shut at the sensation of her hands as they slid lovingly along his shoulders. He could feel her body brush against his from behind as she stood on her tip toes too whisper _"You are the best man I've ever known. "_

"No," he shook his head, eyes still closed, afraid to move or to look at her. Would her ghost vanish if he did? "A good man says goodbye. "

_"A good man feels guilt for when he can't and strives to do better. "_ She countered, the weight of her hands still against his shoulders, her warm breath tinkling against his neck.

"Is a good man cowardly? Does a good man run from those he loves? I have no excuses River. " He sighed, feeling every moment he could have done something differently press down on him.

_"Yes, my love you do. "_ River's ghost wasn't going to make it easy. In death as she was in life. _"You have two broken hearts and the weight of centuries, war, and impossible decisions on your shoulders. I always knew and I always understood that."_

Oh how he wanted to turn to look at her, reach out and touch her. One he couldn't risk and the other wasn't possible.

"Is knowing enough? Will knowing keep you from doubting how much I... " he had never said the words to her alive and he found it equally as hard to say to her ghost. He settled for other words just as true. "miss you. "

_Coward, such a coward._

There was a sudden absence of hands on his shoulders, replaced with the feather light touch of a small palm against his cheek. Still he did not look. _"You didn't abandon me. I know that is what you think, but you didn't. You saved me. You **are** a good man."_

He couldn't respond to her being saved, not because she was right, but because it was easier to ignore. "No, that was your father " Rory the Roman who waited, who fought, with loyalty burned into his bones.

_"You're right. "_ He could hear the gentle laughter in her voice. _"You are the best man I've ever known... second only to my father. "_ A wry chuckle escaped him, if only he was _that_ good and _that_ brave.

_"Oh my love "_ She said, her curls tickling his ear, _"Why do you run? It has never worked for you before. "_

"If I stay " he whispered back, head turned slightly towards her while his eyes stayed closed, "I'll go mad. To remember you, them when I.. "

_"Shh, just trust me and don't run sweetie. Rule seven, never run when you're scared. Best advice I ever received. "_

He wanted to argue, what did he know with all his pointless rules ,when he realized his hand was on the door handle. The door creaked as it was pushed forward and his eyes opened against his will. She was gone and all that was left was rule seven.

* * *

><p>"Nobody can open a TARDIS by snapping their fingers. It doesn't work like that."<p>

It wasn't his words that bothered her. Obviously he didn't know he could, and how ironic that she ..SHE was the one to teach him that he even could. It was not lost on her that some of the things she learned from him, things she had seen HER doctor do, heard him say were because she was doing them now. She said spoilers because he had taught her that word, and apparently he had learned it from her.

Infuriating, much like his dismissive tone. _It doesn't work like that._ As if she was just making it up. The urge to smack him, even this young him was growing by the moment and it made her sick. Sick because .. she _missed_ him. Her him. The one she told Anita could frighten armies off with the mention of his name. She had seen him do this and yet this ...Doctor.

Oh, he had all the Doctor elements. He was the Doctor, it was true. But she couldn't stop the words spilling out of her because as much as he was the Doctor, he also wasn't.

"It does for the Doctor. "

She recognized that look. The one he gave her and it warred with the feeling of who he wasn't because it really was such a Doctor expression, just on a different face.

"I am the Doctor." He replied with cold annoyance.

His tone, his eyes, that face and everything that wasn't him mixed with all the bits that were, hurt like physical ache in her chest, a cold icy dagger right between her hearts.

She couldn't look at him. She couldn't pretend to even hide her disappointment that he wasn't the man she wanted. It didn't matter that it wasn't his fault, she simply couldn't pretend.

"Yeah. Some day. " She barely kept her voice from wavering with her pain. In that moment, she realized as he walked away to talk to Anita, she did hate him a little. All the times she had said it in the past, not even just a tiny bit. But then when he couldn't help his age or ignorance she found she had a real sliver of hate. He wasn't HER doctor.

It burned.

Perhaps it wouldn't burn so much if she could just tell him. Tell him how much she really did need him. It wasn't a casual need. But real need because something was wrong with her, she knew it. The idea she could become a danger to him before she could tell him was worse then him looking in her eyes without not only love but no recognition.

He was suppose to help. To come to the Library and save her. But now? He was useless.

"Where's Other Dave? " she asked him as she finally glanced around the room.

His tone of self loathing was all to familiar and it made the ache in her worse. "Not coming, sorry." Another burden for him to carry that wasn't his fault.

Poor Dave. All of them, she had brought them all there, including him. Flesh eating shadows and all they could do was run. Where was the army, the fairy tale, the rewriting of history that he could fix? He said he didn't believe in miracles, but she had seen him do them time and time again. Only this time?

Her knees hit the floor. She couldn't care if Mr. Lux or any of the others saw. It was all unraveling and she just needed a moment. River Song didn't cry. Not for herself, never for herself. A harsh lesson learned from a young age, tears were wasted on yourself.

Instead she took deep breaths and tried to calm her racing hearts. She just had to get the rest of them through this. Once it was done, she'd make this younger version let her in the TARDIS, there perhaps she could find away to get a version of him that could help.

Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she swallowed back the memory of the moment she had dreaded for years.

It had hurt, far more profoundly than she had expected it to. His brown eyes on that pretty face, staring straight through her, with none of the weight of their shared history to give her form to him.

She had just assumed he was pretending that he didn't know her. Why didn't it occur to her that he really hadn't ? This day was something she knew was coming since he first started making her keep a diary of their life together.

She should have known. He didn't flirt. He didn't smile at her and then every time he looked at her since she tried to compare diaries, it was like she was a specter, something heralding doom and pain.

_"River... "_ she heard her name whispered from the dark corner of the room , interrupting her dejected thoughts. A shiver ran down her spine at the voice that had begun to haunt her. River scanned the shadows uncertain as to what exactly she was searching for.

_"River... "_ this time one of the shadows did move, slowly taking the form of a man. For a split second the outline of the shadow was familiar but gone before she could place why. Instead she felt frozen. Her breath caught in her throat and her hearts beating a painful tattoo.

_Don't listen._

_It's not really there. Not in a library with flesh eating shadows, not even the silence could hide there._

Flipping open her diary in an attempt to push all the pain and monsters out of her thoughts, River had a startling realization hit her. This day was one he had always been preparing her for.

All those rules, some which made little sense but had been drilled into her head from the first time he picked her up at storm cage, all of them had been him preparing her for this, this version of him.

He was going to need her like he had never needed her before. The thought was frightening. Even as incomplete as he was to her, he was still The Doctor, still brilliant, still the presence in the room that pulled everyone else into orbit. So what exactly had he been equipping her for?

The most painful bit was he was too young to turn to for her own personal help. A brutal reminder that sometimes, in this marriage, it was a party of one. A single tear escaped her control, tracking down her face to fall on to the diary page. It bled, blurring the ink of a few words in her last entry.

Wiping away the moisture, River closed the book. No relief would be found in those pages, help would not spring forth because she stared and cried over them.

_Doctor, please-_ She closed her eyes and thought achingly, _my love please come and help me._ River put the diary away, shelving her marriage and her hope, to join a stranger she intimately knew.

* * *

><p>While rule seven got him through the door, it was a sort of a shocked determination that compelled his feet to move in the direction he needed to go. It was what kept him there. His heart, mind and eyes were far too busy to do anything other than trying not to remember details. Yet he couldn't help absorbing the past sitting on shelves, piled on the floor, hanging from hooks.<p>

His eyes cruelly fell to the huflewerarumpt sitting on a shelf leaning against books. Shining a pretty shade of rose gold from the rooms lighting, touches of sparkles glittered as he came closer. As he passed by, it began to sing out a sorrowful melody as it sensed his mood.

The Doctor closed his eyes, hearing the tune, being brought back in time remembering how Rose had loved it and giggled every time he had said its name, which of course meant he had said it quite frequently just to hear that delightful noise. Even then, he had cherished her joy. Rose had been sunshine clearing away the grey in his sky.

_Placing it down at her bedside table, Rose turned to him with a glint in her eye. "The 'huffle wear it rump' will remind me to cheer up on bad days and how can I not with a name like that?"_

_"Rose, " He had said with an amused shake of his head. "It's easier to say than Raxacoricofallapatorius "_

_She had nodded before exclaiming, "oh! oh, say it again."_

_"Raxacoricofallapatorius ...?"_

_She snickered. "Yes. I love how you say it!"_

_He leaned towards her, a grin teasing his lips, "Raxacoricofallapatorius"_

_Rose gave a dramatic sigh before giggling again._

_The grin finally broke out before his brows raised, "Now try saying huflewerarumpt properly ."_

_She giggled once more, pointing out with a sparkle in her eyes. "Okay, I think it's you who likes hearing me say this one. Huffleweararump."_

_"Rose Tyler, I do not-." he trailed off realizing this was her teasing him, deciding to play along. Something which he enjoyed immensely, far more than he should. "Say it again."_

_"Huffleweararump."_

_"ohh again"_

_"Huffleweararump."_

_"What exactly is a huffle?"_

The Doctor took a deep breath and averted his eyes to chase away the memory. The ache in his chest whenever he thought of Rose had freshly blossomed from it. In averting his eyes, they fell on a jacket of Sarah Jane's, something she had worn back when she had traveled with him.

She picked it up at a bazaar and wore it a lot around the TARDIS, especially when she complained of it being cold. It was still fresh in his mind the look on her face when she had realized she had somehow missed placed it.

Though she never knew he had looked for it even after he left her behind. He got lost once in the factelorian puzzle maze, he had forgotten he had, just trying to find it. It wasn't until he had been traveling with Peri that he accidentally came across the jacket.

For a while he left it in the wardrobe, but the idea of anyone else wearing it bothered him. It made him feel guilty. So, pushing all thoughts of Sarah Jane from his mind, he had quickly tossed it in a hook in this room.

He took another deep breath to push himself onward. On another shelf lay a pencil Mickey had tossed at his head in annoyance, missing him and it had later turned up to practically trip him as he went racing around the console (Donna had laughed hard, teasing him for days about his 'pencil slide').

There was also one of Martha's heels from Eutherian concert she had adored, and a book of Shakespeare's sonnets sitting on the same shelf, where a button off one of Jack's jackets lay next to one of Teagans scarves. Bits of moments in time, slices of his life he longed for and could not get back.

It was the sight of a box of Donna's belongings, the ones she could never see that told of forgotten adventures, that almost sent him running from the room. He had to lean on a shelf to calm his racing hearts. Guilt filled his lungs and stole his breath as he tried desperately to not hear her voice or picture her face.

_"Okay spaceman I'm ready for the beach. No side tracking this time. If I see a candy store, pretty gardens of whoseawatsits, or ..libr ..anything other then sand I might just kick your skinny striped ass, capiche?"_

He failed and did the only thing he could do, jump from one pain to escape another. Right next to Donna's box was a old intricately designed trunk filled with memories of a marriage lived out of order. A place brimming with her. The woman he should never have loved at all, the woman who killed him and brought him back, the woman who haunted him. His wife.

The Doctor felt everything within him stop. It was as if his hearts simply could not beat, every biological system on hold, his mind stuttered on one thing._ Her_. If the page from her diary was like being flooded with her, the chest before him was an ocean to drown in. Where as he had no idea what her diary held, he knew perfectly well what was in that box.

The question that occurred to him in that moment, as his lungs declared he needed to breath, was' why was he lead here'. The TARDIS, Rivers ghost, his own feet. All directed him to this moment and this place.

_"Don't run Sweetie, rule 7..."_ the words echoing in his head, pounding against his chest.

Time stood still in that moment as he stared at the chest, knowing what he'd find inside and suddenly having a pretty good idea now why he was there. His fingers skimmed the surface of the chest, tracing lightly over the pattern. Their names woven together along with promises made.

It had been an anniversary gift, a spur of the moment idea. He had never been prone to giving River baubles or buying her things or any of that. Only flowers because they lit up her eyes, even if those same eyes would roll at him for the gesture. Still she'd smell the scent and make a fuss, sometimes pinning a flower to her hair. He often found them in a vase somewhere: the kitchen, their room…

The Doctor smiled at the memories, despite the pain they brought with them. Part of why he bought them for her was also because he'd find them pressed between books in the library, or stacks in their room. River wouldn't need to preserve them if they held no value beyond lighting up her green eyes.

The cold of the metal latch against his trailing fingers was like an electric shock, one whose jolt ran straight down his arm and into his chest. All thoughts of flowers and beautiful eyes fled, leaving him once again with why he was there. He had an answer to find. No, an answer to confirm. There was only one problem as he stared at the latch. Did he have the strength to open or would he run?

* * *

><p>"It's okay. Honestly, Doctor I don't mind. " She was looking at him with big brown eyes, wide and tender. The earlier questions that had hung in them were momentarily gone, though he knew he owed her answers even if she let the questions go.<p>

Clara had been there waiting when he returned to the console room. Her face was the perfect presentation of worry and care. He had barely heard a word she said, just the softness of her voice.

He had stood there staring at her, watching her mouth move but suddenly picturing a different girl, seeing a gold toned console room from days long passed, and then just as quickly it was the present again with its harsh reality. The Doctor shook his head and moved past Clara and placed the chest down.

He felt uncertain on how to proceed, not even sure completely what he was thinking. Did it matter if the page was there? With a deep breath he turned around to find Clara quietly watching him. Her calm seemed to renew his resolve and bring clarity to his intentions, for words he wasn't sure he had spilled out.

He needed her to go through the chest, find River 's diary and help him do something he could never do- look through it.

The Doctor hadn't realized he was pacing till he felt her hand pull gently on his sleeve. He stopped with the chest looming in front of him; his personal pandoras box. It was Clara's presence that helped to keep the ghosts at bay, that kept his mind on the present.

"Doctor, I'm ready when you are. " she confirmed again her willingness, this time he didn't let his eyes find hers. He did not want to make her the some kind of emotional talisman for his strength. Her being his proxy was one thing, it allowed him to do this without running. However, he couldn't burden her with the weight of all his pain. There was far too much.

"Thank you" He managed to croak out before going to the door and giving Vastra her answer to proceed. The words made his tongue feel thick and his stomach turn. The Silurian was correct; they needed to know from River what was going on. It was his guilt for leaving her to that life and how she must feel about him that caused any reluctance on his end.

Ignorance was his only saving grace.

Upon moving from the door, the Doctor found Clara's arms going around him as she stood on her tip toes to pull him into a hug. It was as if she knew he needed one. Which he supposed he did, hugging and hand holding were two physical connections he seemed to crave going all the way back to the day he took Rose's hand and told her to run. The only times he had been deprived of them where when he removed himself from human company.

After all the time grieving in Victorian London he had almost forgotten how wonderful it was to touch, to be touched. Even just the glancing feel of a hand on his sleeve. Now with Clara in his life it was like finding a piece of himself, one he hadn't realized he had been missing.

His arms made their way around her and he allowed himself to bury his face in her hair and lift her tiny frame up. Relishing in the feel of her very human heart beating its anthem of life, one that resonated through him. The Doctor could almost imagine her single heart could, despite all it lacked genetically, bring his two back to life. There were times where he felt so dead inside.

Clara turned her mouth towards his ear, her words soft and reassuring. "I won't leave, I promise. " She pulled back to look up at him, forcing him to put her back down on her feet. Her hands rested on his forearms, those brown eyes searching his as she added, "Not till you're ready, I'm here Doctor."

It wasn't lost on him, what she was willing to give up to be there for him. Like River, and even his Ponds in the end, Clara liked the freedom to leave behind the adventure and live in the mundane. To be utterly human with a 9-5 job and crap evening telly.

He would have snorted under less emotional circumstances at the idea of River and mundane. He couldn't quite picture the life she had without him being anything close to normal. River and normality wasn't a concept he could easily grasp.

Nodding, The Doctor gave a weak smile and kissed Clara on the forehead. Words escaped him in that moment but she didn't seem to need a verbal reply. Instead she tentatively asked, "Uh, where would you like for me to..." She gestured at the chest a bit shyly.

The Doctor ran a hand down the back of his head. While her awkwardness stemmed from not wanting to upset him further, his was from a funny apprehension and a sudden realization that he was about to let someone into a very private aspect of his life.

There was so much that had only ever been between River and himself, things not even her parents knew. The chest held it all, in bits and bobs picked up through the years, in her belongings left on the TARDIS, in items that had symbolized the love between them. While most of it on it's own would mean nothing to Clara, it still was private and it would carry the pain of memories he long since buried.

He shook his head, deciding he couldn't do this on the TARDIS. Needing a place that wasn't filled with her, he picked up the chest and brought it out into Vastra's lounge, Clara following. "Here, you can...here" he managed to say.

Clara gave him an understanding smile and sat down before the chest. Once he took a seat beside her , she reached for the latch, lifting it before placing her hands firmly against the edge of the lid and pushing it up.

Sitting up against the arm of the sofa, The Doctor watched as if he could hide from the memories or the pain. When had he become so fragile?

The first thing Clara had brought out was an old blaster, the energy capsule burned out and parts of the covering were blackened. River had mourned the blasted things destruction, though her face was touched with grief she never said a word about it, but had refused to abandon it. When he came across it years later, the idea of throwing it out had seemed disrespectful. In a way, he supposed he could understand the attachment she had to It. It had saved her life, even their lives, her parents lives, a time or two. It meant something to her the way his sonic meant something to him.

Clara placed it aside and carefully brought out a guitar, noting that it was longer than the chest. She looked at him. "Bigger on the inside? "

He nodded and took the guitar from her hands. He realized he never did learn to play, despite telling River he would. They had actually fought, a proper couple fight, over the damn thing, though now he couldn't remember why. But he did remember the laughter once they had cooled down and River surprising him with a hidden talent, those lethal hands of hers playing the instrument with the same grace she handled a weapon.

Clara gave him a moment before continuing. She pulled out lipstick and handcuffs, that earned him a inquiring look, which the Doctor smirked at despite himself. The next item was a reminder of her sense of humour and sentiment, the book 'The Time Travelers Wife'. A simple leather strip as a bookmark hung over the cover, marking her favorite part of the book. She had kept it at her bedside table and baffled him with her love of the story that paled in comparison to her own. He knew all too well the quote she had underlined in it's pages, "I love you always. Time is nothing". He felt the weight of those words, the weight of all the untold stories sink into him, but it was a bowtie, _the_ bowtie, that made him tingle with renewed grief.

The bowtie itself was nothing special, he had two others that look almost identical, but that one he always knew, even from a glance, was _the _one. The one he wrapped around his hand as she wrapped it around hers. The one she would steal away to keep with her. It had almost become an unspoken ritual to trade it off by nicking it from the other. Whenever River had it, he knew she kept it on her or in her bag, always nearby like a touchstone in those moments when he wasn't the man who understood her. He wasn't sure if he was happy he had it last. It felt incomplete.__

Clara placed the bowtie down beside them gently and turned back to the chest. He knew what was coming next. There were so many other things still in the chest, but he knew the order they were placed in there. Her diary was next, and the grief that tingled at his face spread into his limbs, stole his breath and left him sitting like a statue, unable to look away.

The Doctor's emotional state didn't go unnoticed. Clara almost asked if she should continue before realizing it was better to get it done. She felt around in the box, feeling something that from touch felt like a wooden leg and ignored it, reaching to the side. Her fingertips brushed what was possibly paper and from what she could make out they were sticking out of a book.

The diary was a little heavier than she thought it would be as she pulled it out. The TARDIS blue covers with cream white pages, some slightly crinkled and others possibly singed going by the darkened curled edges, were all reminiscent of what she'd expect to find in a museum.

Clara glanced over to check on the Time Lord, noting he still wore the blank expression, the one she now recognized as his 'trying not to feel' face. There wasn't a thing she could say or do for him beyond this, so she had to continue.

Taking a breath in she exhaled it slowly before pulling out the diary page he had entrusted to her when he had asked for her help. Trying not to be drawn into the words on the page, Clara looked for any attribute that could tell her where in the diary it might be from. After a moment she noticed a set of numbers faintly in the top right corner.

Opening the diary revealed pages with the same numbers, not unlike a Dewey decimal system. It took her a few minutes to grasp how the number system worked exactly before she flipped to a spot a 2/3 of the way in. There for both of them to see was the torn remains of where a page used to be.

Uncertain what exactly that meant, she faced him and asked. The Doctor wore a puzzled expression as he stared at the remains of the torn page.

"It means she..." his confusion quickly turned to anger as he continued " it means that whatever this is began before the Library, four or five months before according to the numbers. " River had dealt with it for months. The thought shifted his anger from his self blame and grief to her. Why hadn't she come to him, found him before the library?

Clara frowned, glancing between the diary and it's missing page. "I don't understand, why is that important?"

He rubbed his face before answering, "If the page had been in there it meant that whatever this was... this message from the dead was a sign I would be solving it with a living breathing... " He trailed off not able to voice the small amount of hope he had.

"Wait, ohhh! " It dawned on her exactly what he meant. The fact it was torn out and not in the diary meant he wouldn't be solving it with a younger River. The date the page was started was with an older River who wouldn't see him till the day she died.

That though didn't solve the why it was sent to Vastra or by who. But now she understood his motivation to find the diary.

A comfortable yet painful silence fell between them. The Doctor leaned forward, resting his head in his hands, lost in his own thoughts. Clara looked around the room briefly, but her eyes kept returning to the diary still in her lap.

It was funny how pictures, snapshot impressions, of someone were formed based off of very little. For all she didn't know about him there were all these things she felt she knew. Him being a husband wasn't one. It's not to say she couldn't wrap her head around it or that she thought he'd be bad at marriage. It just didn't fit her quickly formed mental picture. He was an eternal bachelor or the dorky boyfriend. Not a devoted husband, yet she had known he was or had been a grandfather since Ahkatan.

She looked over and ran her eyes over him, trying to picture him in that life with River. Children and then grandchildren at their feet, running about the TARDIS. She shook her head, unable to take the imagery seriously.. Some how it didn't seem real and there were too many unanswered questions for it to be real. She wanted to really see him for who he was in this role, though she had a feeling it would break her heart more than it already had.

With a sigh, she flicked through the pages, not reading with any real attention, just catching bits and pieces, perusing some of the drawings. One in particular made her blush and reminded her that this wasn't the diary of a child but of a grown and evidently happily married woman.

Closing the diary, she searched for a way to ask a question she had been wondering for the last few hours.

"Why... " She cleared her throat and flushed a little when he looked up at her. "Why did you let me think you were gay? "

"What?" He asked with an incredulous frown that felt a little forced even to him. Obviously she wasn't buying it either. She matched his frown with eyes that challenged his supposed confusion.

"Doctor, you let me think you were gay, that she was a man." She locked her eyes with him, wanting to understand. He started to shake his head and deny it but she cut him off. "No, you did. I have referred to the Professor at least twice as a man and you didn't correct me, not to mention it would have been incredibly embarrassing if I had encouraged you to - " Clara felt the blush creep into her cheeks. " do what I had debated on at that bar you accidentally took us too."

She almost laughed at the way he furrowed his virtually non-existent eyebrows, clearly not understanding what she was referring to. "And that so isn't the point. " She finished, " What _is_ is that you obviously loved her and yet you let me think that. "

The Doctor looked away and after several minutes, and just when she thought that was the most she'd get out of him, he quietly responded. "You're right Clara. I'm sorry, I never meant for it to go that far. "

"Maybe you need to talk about her. "

"I don't think I can."

It was an honest reply, if the expression in his eyes was anything to go by. Clara hated that she couldn't help, that she couldn't make it all better. It went against the grain and her desire to control the world around her. Make pain stop for those she cared about, her own father was one person who used to be like the Doctor.

A thought hit her and Clara sat up a little straighter, her hand gently caressing the cover of the diary as she began. "I have memories of my mum, a few not many. " she glanced at him even though his head was once again cradled in his hands. " but those few memories are very precious to me and I kept them alive by talking about her. My dad though.." she shook her head, remembering painfully the way he had been. " my nan says that he only talked about her as 'Clara's mum' and I remember that he never really said a whole lot when I talked about her. Not for a long time."

The silence in the room as she paused to collect herself told her he was listening, giving her encouragement to continue.

"He said not a word about her till one day something changed. She wasn't just my mum but who she was as Ellie and he started to get better, like this weight wasn't laying on him any longer. He needed that and so did I because it kept her alive for me, to have him finally share. "

She turned to him and startled him as one of her own hands gripped his. "Doctor, I think if you talk about her, who she really was, eventually it won't hurt so much."

The Doctor watched as one of Clara's hands soothingly ran a thumb over the top of his hand that held hers. Her other hand traced the groves in the diary's cover, the action bringing a sudden desire for another pair of hands that would cup his face, or take his hand, or even smack him. Anything from those pair of hands would be welcome if he could just bring her back.

Clara was right again. He did need to talk, but he never had been one to just say everything he was feeling. He lied to not only protect others or save the day or any of the thousands of reasons he justified that incredibly bad habit, he lied to hide from himself. Traveling with Clara had eased a great deal but it had yet to make him feel strong enough to announce he had a wife and he missed her still, every moment of every day.

"I wouldn't know where to begin Clara. " His eyes met hers, pleading with her to make this easier or to just let it go. He wasn't sure which one he wanted now.

Clara gave him a small smile, "Start with who she was to you or how you met her or your favorite place to eat out. Really anything Doctor, anything would do."

The Doctor stared at her a moment. This girl of 20 something years wanting him to condense a relationship, a woman of centuries down to a sentence, as if that could hold River. But this same girl wasn't going to let him shy away from it. He had seen the look in her eyes, in a number of other eyes, through the centuries. Stubbornness was a consistent trait in the company he kept.

It was also exactly what he needed. He turned to stare at the chest, his eyes tracing the promises carved in it as his mouth and mind tried to begin.

"River was.. she..she was clever and incredibly brave and kind and funny. " He knew millions of languages and not a word in any of them did her justice but these words were all he had, "She was forgiving-" he added because River had never stopped forgiving him again and again for all he had done and all he would do and he never deserved an ounce of it. " And she had more love in one heart than I could ever have in two."

Swallowing back the lump that had formed in her throat at his words and the depth of emotion that filled his voice, Clara managed to whisper, "I think you have a lot of love in you."

He stared at their hands, once again, and tried to explain. "All I wanted to do was run. It's what I've done all my life in one way or another, but River…River fought and held on with everything she had. While she gripped love and clung to it, I ran..and I ran from -"

"Doctor..." Jenny's soft voice interrupted them.

They looked up to see her and Vastra at the entrance of the room. "She didn't come". Vastra started, looking a lighter shade of green.

The Doctor's shoulders slumped and the relief he felt was short lived as he took in Vastra's wan complexion. "What else?" he asked hoarsely, standing with lips drawn into a thin line.

Vastra took a deep breath before coming to stand closer to them. "A little girl appeared just as I was going to close the conference. She… the girl said for you to come to the Library. "

"Nothing of River?"

The Silurian woman was unable to hide her concern despite her efforts, "She managed, before she disappeared, to say that they… were unable to find River."

The Doctor looked like he had been kicked in the stomach and it felt that way too. He had expected to hear that River was refusing to speak to him. It hadn't crossed his mind that something was terribly wrong in the here and now.

If they couldn't find her then where was River?

* * *

><p>Drop a kudo, leave a comment.. wanna know what you're thinking!<p> 


	4. C3 - Holding On and Letting Go

So very sorry for how late this is. On top of the holidays, there ended up being one issue after another. But here it is. Been told by a prereader that it's a good chapter but I'm still not in love with it.

Due to my lovely beta dealing with sickness I did most of the editing. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry! Honestly, I'm horrid at it and

between me being punctuation-lly challenged and the pain I've been in I hope this isn't as bad as it seems to me.

Story note: the angst will get better, I promise. Lots of non angst goodies coming with the next chapter. :D

Also incase it wasn't clear this story starts a few weeks after 'Journey to the Center of the TARDIS '. Events after do Not happen.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three - Holding On and Letting Go<strong>

"**T**he Library? " Clara asked with undisguised curiosity. He could feel her staring at his back like she was drilling holes into him.

Vastra knew what The Library was, about it's dangers having heard most of it from him, yet she didn't volunteer the information for him this time. The Doctor inwardly sighed as he searched through a trunk he'd pulled out with bits and bobs of gadgetry.

He glanced at Clara who stood off to the side, "It's the biggest library in the galaxy as well as being the hunting grounds for the largest swarm of Vashta Nerada anyone has ever seen. " He couldn't quite stop some of his anger from bleeding into his voice. He grunted in reaction to the unexpected heaviness of what he'd been looking for and to cover up how he was feeling in that moment.

When it wasn't grief or self hatred he just felt angry. River in the Library mainframe guarded by the shadows who inadvertently took her away had a poetic feel. Now though someone or something was threatening what remained of her.

He pushed aside the terror of her being gone completely and focused on the task at hand, letting some of his anger keep him going. Moving around the console his eyes fell to the time reference that the TARDIS insisted on, it shouldn't surprise him that she would know _when_ River had...

After Vastra had told him what Charlotte had said he had gone straight into the TARDIS, intending to try and trace from when Charlotte was from, only to find coordinates already set.

Curious he had tried to change the date but each time the old girl had put them right back to 5 years, 6 months and 14 days from the day River saved 4,022 people.

That was where the TARDIS had landed.

Now she was possibly gone, despite his efforts to insure that this, what it might be, wouldn't happen. With a annoyed tormented sigh at his own thoughts the Doctor rolled his eyes. He picked up the dark green metallic box he had pulled out to find Vastra watching him intently. The damn Silurian was far too perceptive for his liking, she had insisted on coming along with him and Clara. He didn't need a minder.

"Vashta Nerada? I take it dangerous? " Clara asked as she followed him. The Doctor didn't care for the way she looked at him either. Was he wearing the hurricane of his emotions for all to see?

Deciding to ignore their far to knowing looks, The Doctor placed the box in front of the TARDIS doors before heading under the console to retrieve more of what he needed. Explaining as he did and forcing Clara to follow him.

"You know the dust you see when sunlight streams in through the window? It's not always dust. Or how sometimes there seems to be something wrong with a shadow and you can't quite figure out what? It's because it's not just a shadow. " He glanced at Clara to make sure he had her complete attention and from the look on her face he did.

He placed another piece down before rummaging through his jacket for the sonic, remembering where the final piece was he headed back to the trunk.

"On many world's sunbeams and shadow's are harmless most of the time. The swarms are usually small, quite tiny and they prefer to remain unknown. So they feed off road kill and occasionally, sometimes, when someone enters the dark of night they don't come back. "

Clara eyes widened, "Whoa! Wait are you saying man eating shadows are the reason people go missing? "

"Or pets." He added as he began to put the parts together. Clara obviously didn't like his addition. "Doctor ! How ... " she paused to gather herself. "Does anyone, on earth I mean, know about this? "

"No, I don't imagine they do. " He shrugged and stopped to stare at his hands as he realized how uncaring that was. He knew first hand what those shadows did. Poor Anita, the Dave's, all of them. In the end those shadows were the reason he lost River. "Shadows that melt the flesh." He muttered to himself in response to remembering the look on her face at the Library.

Clara held up a hand and moved around him so she could look him in the face, "Shadows that what? I really don't understand how they can live in shadows and sunbeams and no one knows!"

Glancing up at her, he tried to reassure her worry for Earth, "Clara.. their presence on most worlds is so small that missing people, devoured road kill, lost pets go unnoticed, remain a mystery." He slipped the last piece in place and looked back up at her. "That is not what you should be worried about."

"What does that mean? " Clara asked, a mix of apprehension and annoyance lacing her tone. He could tell by the press of her lips that she was feeling out of her element. He knew how much she hated that and usually he would offer her some sort of verbal safety net. Now, with the very lethal nature of the Vashta Nerda and his fried nerves, he had nothing to give her.

"Last time, " He began while trying his hardest to not picture that day, " the Vashta nerada were able to take out the lights. Fission lights are meant to last even through nuclear storms. Almost nothing can cause individual lights to go out, but_ they_ can. Once the lights are out, and the halls are pitch black, they have virtually nothing to stop them from feeding. "

Clara stared at the door like she was seeing through it to the library then back at him. "And we have to go out there where they can turn off the lights?" Clara looked far from pleased.

Shaking his head, the Doctor stood and opened the door into the library that was now completely black, void of all light, all of which had gone out long ago. "No Clara. I have to go out into that."

"Doctor, there is no light at all!" Clara exclaimed and Vastra wore an expression of agreement though she seemed content to watch how everything played out.

"Yes, I'm aware of this" He replied sardonically.

"How" Clara looked at him with exasperation, "can you even get through that without... " she waved an arm to indicate the blackness and then him.

In another time and place he'd have smiled almost manically and would have whimsically replied ' Let's find out'. But in this moment with the pitch black before him and the two women behind him he felt like he was drowning. This wasn't a adventure, it was a death march. Even if River was fine in the main frame she was still gone and this place was her tomb and he hated it.

Swallowing back a burst of anger that filled his throat, the Doctor spun on his heel and managed half of a somewhat inane smile. "Time to test out a new gadget." He paused a moment in thought. "Well when I say new I mean something I forgot and when I say I forgot I mean something I didn't know I had till maybe a week ago." He shook his head at their bland expressions and huffed.

After he repositioned what he had put together and turned it on, an obnoxious noise started to clang out. A sound like coins hitting the sides of a spinning dryer drum.

Clara and Vastra covered their ears as the sound grew louder, watching as the Doctor bent to open a side panel on the strange metallic green cube.

"Is the plan to irritate the swarm? If so this would do it. " Vastra yelled over the din.

The Doctor didn't reply, instead he sonicked inside the panel causing the now deafening noise to cease and a beam of bright light to grow. The three of them watched as the beam slowly pierced the pitch darkness, creating a path of light.

"That is how I'm getting through."

Clara sighed with relief till the Doctor added, "as long as it works. "

He ignored the exasperated looks, coming to stand with eyes fixed on the darkness on either side of the path. "Fhesrian light box. It was believed that they had learned to control shadows. Create light that -" He slowly stuck his hand out into the Fhesrian light path pleased at the result. "Doesn't cast them. " There was not a sign of a shadow angling from his arm.

He heard Clara's gasp in reaction and felt Vastras stare. "How long will the path stay? " she asked.

"Long enough, 13 minutes at max If we're lucky ."

"Doctor is this the only way? Can't you use the TARDIS to connect or communicate to the library computer? Something, anything? Like Vastras dream conference?" Clara begged somewhat fearfully.

Vastra gave him a disapproving look. He knew why, for working Clara up. He didn't have time to repair it and offer reassurance. Instead he spun about to grab his jacket.

When he turned back around the Doctor answered and not favorably, "No other way. I stick to the path, have a quick chat or, possibly, a berating from my justifiably angry wife." While he didnt want to see her as it would be so very painful, he would take her piercing words over her not existing at all.

"I'll put the viewer on but do not leave the TARDIS. " It was his only concession, his best attempt to fix what he had thoughtlessly done to his companion .

Clara took her place near the monitor while Vastra came to stand at the door with him. " Do I need to remind you to not let your emotions get the best of you?"

His eyes meet hers and he gave a slight shake of his head, "No. " He knew why she asked. "I make no promises Vastra, this is River and... "

And what? He was hanging on by a thread. A terrible knot twisted his insides and he wasn't sure he could survive losing her again.

Vastra put a hand on his shoulders, her eyes spoke of her understanding. "I, we will be here my friend. No matter the outcome. "

Taking a deep breath, The Doctor nodded before stepping on to the path. While he walked the path to Charlottes node he could feel the TARDIS with him.

His connection with her wasn't like anything he had with anyone else, completely unique. They couldn't communicate in any normal fashion verbal or psychically . Instead she was a constant comforting presence, that warm mental blanket.

Centuries together had strengthen the bond between them, molding it, changing it. Allowing him moments like this, where he could feel her pain echo his own just as it did hours ago. She had loved River in a way that she did not feel for him. When he hadn't known who River was he had admittedly felt jealous. How could this woman, who was in prison for probably killing him, garner such a respect and love from HIS ship. Aggravating!

But after Demon's run he couldn't muster that jealousy if he tried. River was the TARDIS's daughter just as much as she was Amy's and Rory's. She had poured some of herself into her conception. Why, was something he often asked himself. Why would she do that, when like him, she'd have to lose her?

Lose her child.

Yet part of that answer was always obvious. The TARDIS loved him and had given him a gift, a way to heal and had save him through the very weapon designed to kill him. The Silence had taken Melody because of what she was, a human with time woven into her veins, but those veins hadn't been made for them but for him. They had stolen Melody Pond not just from her human kin, but her time family. The pond's, the TARDIS, and himself.

Groaning from both the weight of his own grief and hers, the Doctor reached up to touch the Library interface. Hoping to find that River was fine, just cross with him. He really didn't think he could cope with speaking to her and yet the alternative was already shattering him.

If Vastra had successfully conferenced with River before why hadn't it worked this time? What did the page from her diary mean? Oh, he had ideas on all of it but he didn't want to go there. Didn't want to even entertain any of it. Just find that she's okay and go back to the TARDIS pretending he was alright. That he could continue life without her.

It had been a long time, centuries since he had touched the panel, stroked fingers along the keys. Yet it seemed like yesterday, all those years with her had not even come close to being enough and the years apart too long. Love muddled the senses and left him feeling confused in a way he wasn't generally accustomed to.

He tapped in the entry code he had set up many years before so he could speak to Charlotte directly with ease incase of emergency. Taking in a deep breath, the Doctor turned to the data node and waited for the connection with the girl to load. Half hoping half dreading he'd get his irate wife instead.

No such torment or relief.

"Doctor!" A girls voice exclaimed. He turned to face the child's courtesy node.

"Charlotte, how did -" Suddenly words failed him turning to acid in his mouth. He couldn't form the words River and missing together.

It didn't matter with the agitate girl having no such problem. Her next words, in a the best version of a panicked tone the interface could give, caused his hearts to drop into his stomach as it became more real.

"I'm so sorry Doctor! We tried, I tried to save her... I promise I did! But she just disappeared! "

Shaking his head, more out of an attempt to bring himself to focus and not fall apart than anything else, the Doctor asked quietly. "What do you mean by disappeared? "

"She was here and now she's not. We were talking and suddenly... "

"Was there any warning? Anything she said, did? Anything at all Charlotte?! " He knew he sounded harsh but he couldn't muster the energy to care.

The girl was quiet a moment. Feeling guilty the Doctor opened his mouth to ask more gently, when she spoke. "She said she could hear something, like voices and... an explosion. I couldn't hear it Doctor. I did listen but I couldn't hear it! We started talking again when she screamed and I watched her fade. "

The face on the node appeared to be crying but the Doctor barely noticed as his legs felt like jelly. _River.. oh River._

Anger boiled in his veins, barely concealed as he gripped the console interface while he listened.

"Doctor Moon came. We tried to keep her , it seemed to be working but suddenly she was gone. Doctor Moon can't find her, he says it's like she was never here. But I remember her Doctor, she was... " Charlotte trailed off as if she noticed the Doctor's state.

He couldn't breath. Anger, grief, disbelief warred inside his chest. He kept trying to take in great lung fulls of air but it was like he was submerged in water.

His fingers flew over the keyboard, eyes searched the coding. The Doctor Moon was wrong, there was evidence River had existed in the mainframe, just nothing of her now. The program he had made sure would go in with River was reporting that it could not follow instructions, the target coding, Rivers code, was unavailable.

The news, seeing it on the screen after hearing it, was the finale straw. He broke. A sob escaped and his body felt heavy and boneless at the same time. All he could think was a single thought. _She's gone, truly gone._

Inside the TARDIS Clara and Vastra had watched the interaction and grew more worried with each word from Charlotte. When the Doctor suddenly seemed unable to stand Clara had raced for the doors.

"Clara wait! " Vastra called out. Stopping the girl. "I will get him, if he goes unconscious you will not be able to get him inside safely. " She gently reminded her of the shadows.

Clara turned to look at her with a frown, seeming like she was holding in an argument. In the end she simply nodded before stepping aside.

Vastra carefully placed her sword down . It would have no purpose against flesh eating shadows. She didn't imagine the Doctor was going to move much of his own accord.

Carefully opening the doors Vastra made sure to keep in the path of light the Doctor had setup. The quiet of the dark library broken only by the doctor's sporadic breathing and the girls sobs.

As she knelt down to touch the Doctor, Charlotte's voice startled her. "Tell him. Tell him I'm sorry. I..I loved...love her too. I never had a Mom till River came. She... " Vastra reached up to gently touch the face on the node though it wasn't real. Wanting to comfort the child.

"I am so very very sorry " Charlotte managed to say between tears.

"He knows. It's not your fault. "

"I should have saved her."

"Perhaps you weren't meant to. " Vastra replied simply. Perhaps what was happening was meant to be, she thought, hoping whatever it was would somehow be a good thing. It wasn't impossible, she had to believe that, especially after seeing Clara.

"Will he be okay? " The quiet question was asked after a moment.

Vastra put her hand on the Doctor's chest. His breaths were now shallow and even but he stared straight ahead unseeing. She knew shock when she saw it.

With a trembling smile Vastra tried to reassure the child , "He will be. We will care for him. Do not worry."

Charlotte stared at her for a long minute before replying , " I've sent his ship the data. I...If if he can find her... if somehow...she is welcome here, tell him. " The girl sounded despondent , like she did not believe River would return, like her words of hope weren't for herself but the Doctor.

"I will. " Vastra replied. The head on the node then turned away and she knew the girl was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>T<strong>he tragic and sudden loss of River from the Library continued to be a shock to the Doctor's system. Two days later he was the same, there in physical form, alive yet without life. Upon their return to Jenny and Vastra's, Clara found herself with a room to stay in outside the TARDIS because her friend had shut himself away inside.

She was relieved he wasn't stranding her there, though she was worried as she had no idea how to help him. She had promised to stay, be there for him, and she had meant it. The problem was in how to keep her promise when he spoke not a single word or made any attempt to help himself. It was if he believed he could hide from grief while it shadowed him.

After several failed attempts to talk to him, Clara resigned herself to getting answers to some of the questions that had been swirling around in her head from the other two women.

Vastra and Jenny talked about how they each met the Doctor. Related a story on a time when The Doctor and River had stopped in, and on par with the life of the Doctor, danger had followed close behind. Various other stories and moments were shared adding to the picture slowly forming in Clara's head.

While the stories, or parts of them, made her laugh, the weight of why they were there and why the Doctor was unmoved from his seat under the console platform still bore down on the three women. Not even the return of Strax, the obviously deranged but amusingly gender challenged, potato shaped butler could ease the strain.

On the third morning, with all other topics exhausted, there was only one thing to talk about. The Doctor's grief.

"You said he stayed here. That he grieved for many years" Clara remarked, confused by the apparent contradictions. "But neither you or Jenny look well, no offense, old enough for more than a few years to have passed."

Vastra sat further back into her seat amused at Clara's confusion, sobering as she responded. "It was only a few years for us, much longer for him."

"Though he always returned to us there were days he did not spend here in this time period, times where I could see years had past for him. How long I am not certain." Vastra could remember clearly the man that he was in those early days and found herself fearing his return to that state. It seemed wrong for him to grieve all over again, to suffer the same burden twice. Would he even survive it?

Clara's hesitant question broke through Vastra's thoughts "What changed? I mean what made him... " She hesitated, not sure how to ask the question.

Vastra gave an understanding smile. This Clara was much like the other; clever and right now what the Doctor needed. Though it wasn't a topic she could discuss with her, not until she could get from the Doctor how there was two Clara's, or what was even going on. He wasn't always forth coming even in the best of times.

She gave the girl the closest answer to the truth that she could. "A friend. He met someone who reminded him of the man he had once been, who gave him a sense of renewed hope . And even though she died he had purpose and a reason to be The Doctor again. "

Clara's eye's widen as she remembered what he had said after Akhaten.

_You remind me of someone._

_Who?_

_Someone who died._

Vastra noted the change but had no idea what she said to have caused it. It only made the mystery of Clara Oswald all the more intriguing.

To cover for herself Clara asked, " There must be something we can do to help him now. "

Vastra looked over at the TARDIS and sighed. "There is one thing. He's been avoiding it for years though he needs to do it, has to eventually... and now - "

A sadness crossed the lizard woman's face that echoed the Doctor's own. "And now it is all he has left. However, I don't see him accepting it. "

The idea of the Doctor rejecting it, what ever _it_ was, just didn't register. All Clara could hear was that there was something he _could_ do that _would_ help him begin the process of healing. The Doctor needed something. Being so quiet in his grief felt unnatural. Like he wasn't really there and if he grieved for years the first time how would he be now?

Clara knew he had to be active. The Doctor wasn't meant to be still, not even in grief.

"We have to help him accept it!" Clara hadn't meant to say it as passionately as she did. "Sorry - " she began but Vastra waved her off her apology.

"Yes, we do. Yet it is a task I do not see being easy. He isn't one to be easily persuaded to do what he does not desire to do and less so when it's to avoid pain. "

"He's not avoiding pain." Clara pointed out. "He's living in it."

"I suppose he is but I think he finds a sense of comfort in it." Vastra found herself, for a moment, imagining herself trying to live without Jenny. She wasn't sure she could. "Dealing with his grief and attempting to let her go is more painful than existing in it."

Clara nodded sadly and after a moment in a voice not much above a whisper, replied, "Then we plan. We help him, however long it takes." She took another sip of her tea in an attempt to calm her nerves. If honest with herself she was scared. Scared for him and scared of the glimpses she was getting that teased that it wasn't an accident that they met.

Doing what she always did when this scared, she took the problems head on. "Tell me about it, about what he can do, what he has been avoiding."

A slow small smile crept along Vastra's face at Clara's enthusiasm to help their friend. Once again she thanked the gods for the good fortune of sending Clara Oswald into The Doctors orbit.

Maybe the past wouldn't be repeated after all.

* * *

><p><strong>Some time after the Library; years ago.<strong>

**W**hen he had first appeared at their door, Vastra had known something was very wrong. She had seen, in her short time knowing him, many sides to the Doctor. The way he could be angered to his enjoyment of adventure, his mercy, compassion and even rage. Not once though had she ever seen the despair in his eyes reflecting back at her as if the very point of his existence had been swept out from under him. Grief undiluted, fresh and raw.

The Doctor sat in her parlor like a statue and when he spoke his voice would crack, often fading out as if every word was a great pain wracking his body. His words had made little sense at first. Darilluim, library, angels, Manhattan. However, despite the incoherent rambles, a clear truth came out; he had lost the Pond's to Weeping Angels and River was dead.

While they had known how important River was to the Doctor, that she was Amy and Rory's daughter, they had been surprised to learn she was also his wife. It made the despair that surrounded him all the more potent. He had lost his whole family. The three people who made the old time lord young.

The grief left him despondent. Other then the rambles, which were mostly confusing, the Doctor hadn't moved from his seat on their settee. Three days later Vastra knew something had to be done. He couldn't be left alone, not yet. Vastra had feared he would do something regrettable. So they made him a room, with love and care got him to eat and bathe at least even if that was all he did besides stare into space.

Then one day after many weeks he simply stood, thanked them for their friendship, and walked out. Occasionally they would then talk, but the topic of his losses was too much and each encounter it became clear he wasn't going to get over his broken hearts any time soon.

His state of mind lent him to a quiet temper that frightened her more then anything. Every time the TARDIS disappeared, Vastra hoped upon it's return to find him at least pretending to be ok with a false smile and desire for adventure. Instead his visits brought darkness and each visit grew longer till one day she came to visit and found a version of the Doctor she never wanted to meet again.

It wasn't just dim lighting, it was almost pitch darkness as she entered the TARDIS. Just enough light from the rotor, console controls, and the door window to allow her to see some shape. With her superior than human vision could make out a bit more and his body heat, but not much.

He made no reaction to her presence. No warnings to get out or strange mumblings. He didn't seem to be aware of her coming in or possibly of the fact he had landed.

"Doctor …"

He looked up from where he sat on the steps in the dark, unconsciously sitting in the place his wife had often sat just like her mother.

" I went back." Was all he said. It carried with it a great deal more. Vastra did not need an explanation of what he was talking about and his tone told her he was on the edge, more so than any other time she had seen him.

"Did you speak to her?" She crept forward from the door, unsure how welcome she really was. Experience had told her to never underestimate the man sitting heartbroken only 10 feet away. No matter how bubbling and haphazard he seemed The Doctor was dangerous. Especially like this.

The deep laugh he gave was dark and humourless. "I couldn't ...I just."

"You need to say goodbye Doctor. "

"No. I can't do that.." The Doctor let out a strangled sigh as if trying to catch his breath, "I went to.. I went to bury her. " His voice cracked and she thought she heard a sob, " I couldn't even do that!"

Vastra wanted to reach over and place a hand on his shoulder. She knew humans at least found comfort in the action. But she found she couldn't quite get herself to do it. "One day you still can." She replied, trying to offer another form of comfort.

He sobbed more, a quiet sound that was almost indiscernible over the hushed soft noises of the TARDIS.

"It should have been me in her place."

"If it had of been you she'd have never been born." As soon as the words came out Vastra regretted them.

He was suddenly on his feet, a flash of his face appeared like a phantom as the light from the door briefly hit him. "Do you think I don't know that?" The Doctor growled. She could hear his movement, faintly see his hunched enraged form move around the console. "Her life and her death at my hands."

"I only meant.. " she tried to explain but was cut off as the emotional torrent inside him was spilling out. All Vastra could do was step back, move to her previous position by the door, and ignore the desire to comfort.

There simply was no way to relieve his pain.

"Everything about her was because of me. Conceived in the TARDIS because I meddled in her parents lives, kidnapped and conditioned to kill me, imprisoned because of ME!" His voice had risen higher and became angrier with every line, causing Vastra to flinch despite her attempts not to.

"Years of her life in that prison Vastra! Years! She did it FOR ME! " He practically snarled. His voice suddenly went low, self hatred the center emotion now and equally just as frightening. "Oh she'd pass it off. Say it was the Silence, that it was her choice. But it did not change the truth.. I destroyed her life!"  
>The Doctor was suddenly in front of her. Vastra could feel the pain radiating off him as if it was a physical force making her feel small, something which she wasn't easily accustomed too. He bent till his face was even with hers, and though he was calmer, a barely controlled rage dripped from his hushed tone.<p>

"My life has been a destructive journey leaving damage in it's wake. Those that don't die from it are left changed and ruined. " He took her by the arms and when her eyes fully met his she knew he was asking for her understanding. "I've stopped helping... no more, _no more _death cause of me, no more meddling."

"Doctor you have done so much good.. " She hissed out softly.

"Maybe but the time of helping has passed." He looked down, his hands lingering on her arms. The anger had lessened, though he still vibrated with it as he moved away.

Vastra took a deep breath, searching for a way to reach him when his words finally sunk in. "You have already stopped helping haven't you? "

He came to a halt to stand there quiet, his back still turned to her. "This world doesn't need my help. "

Vastra felt suddenly cold as if the TARDIS had filled with ice. "This world would be destroyed or desolate many times over without you. "

He shook his head, stepping towards the console and leaning against it. She could see a profile of his face in the meager light from the TARDIS. It gave it a surreal glow that only highlighted the enormity of his next words.

"I use to believe that. Believe that the good I did some how outweighed my crimes. " He sighed and for a moment she thought he might return back to his rage, " Nothing can undo what I've done, _nothing_ can... " He had paused for a moment, one of his hands playing with something. After a few seconds her eyes adjusted and Vastra could tell it was River's diary, his fingers running over the worn indentations on it's surface.

" The truth is " he continued as his eyes met hers. " the universe would have adjusted without me. I'm not needed. It was my ego that insisted otherwise. "

"I am not convinced you're right Doctor. I think the universe would be dark and lacking without you and I have no... desire or need to feed your ego. "

The Doctor was clearly not hearing her or intentionally not listening. "You should go. I don't want company," He looked away and down at the diary, "Not anymore. " Vastra could practically hear the words 'not after what I've lost'. It rolled like a wave over her senses.

"What will you do if you are no longer this worlds protector? Where will you go? " She asked quietly, fearing his answer.

"I'll live with my crimes, isn't that enough? "

"Doctor, you do not need -" She protested as he walked back around the console. She turned around and moved to meet him in front of stairs that led to the TARDIS doors

"No! I do not need to do anything but to cease my meddling. My twisting of the lives of good people is done. " He responded, looking at her with a mix of pain and annoyance.

"Doctor -" She began but found herself suddenly being pushed towards the door. Anyone else and such an action would have resulted in their pain or demise, but in this insistence no insult was intended and any pain she could inflict was nothing to agony already endured.

"I'm retired Vastra, now go! " He growled as he roughly opened the door and shoved her out. As his face disappeared, Vastra's heart sank. Her friend was not the same man and there was nothing she could do.

After that day his departures were less and eventually he took residence up on a cloud. They managed to entice him a few times to play the part of a hero but that too ceased. In the end, he stayed up on his cloud as if to hide from his pain, or he walked the streets below as if he searched for something he would never find.

Vastra had almost lost all hope things would change when a bar maid turned nanny spoke of a pond.

* * *

><p><strong>H<strong>e was aware of her watching him, she'd been doing it off and on since he had taken a seat on the steps to the lower floor beneath the console. He knew eventually he'd have to take Clara home, though he found he didn't quite have it in him to bother. It was odd he thought. He had imagined that he'd be different when this day finally came. It was always going to. The Library couldn't last forever, yet he was suppose to be notified when the Library system began to finally fail. This. This was not at all how it should have been. River just…gone.

The weary weight he had carried with him since the day he realized he could find it easy to love River Song has morphed into a piercing ache. Knowing she was going to die because he was too inept to fight flesh eating shadows had always been a deep heavy sense of loss and guilt. That weight had bore down on his shoulders, and eventually manifesting as stooped shoulders.

Over time it had it coloured how he saw miracles because he couldn't find one. Nothing to save her from the library and nothing to prevent it without hurting timelines so tightly and fragily woven together. Detangling them would have dishonoured her and all she had ever asked of him.

_"Not those times, not one line, don't you dare! "_

So he suffered, first trying to endure her by being her friend, just her friend. Believing he could give her time and space without falling. But he fell because there was no way he could run with her, smell time on her, feel her hand fit perfectly with his, look in those mysterious eyes, or resist those teasing lips and not fall madly in love.

Finding her in Berlin and who she was, not just whose daughter but _who_ she was had made that fight impossible. It wasn't long after that he experienced thier first night together.

Even though he thought he was going to die and at her hands he'd been unable to fight it any longer. He gave in not only as a way to show he forgave her for what she had/would do but for himself. Because for however damn long it would be, it would feel good to love and be loved. He had no idea how he won a rare gem like River, a gift unlike another. She was his, and he really wasn't deserving.

Taking a deep breath the Doctor realized the only way he would get one Clara Oswald to stop watching him, was to take her home. With limbs like lead he stood, dredging up what little strength he had left to continue.

Retirement of a permanent sort was beginning to feel like the only thing he wanted to do. Maybe there was an after life and he might have done something that could earn him even just one more day with her. Give him a chance to say everything he never did.

Straightening his jacket and bowtie he glanced at Clara. "It's time, no need to keep staring at me. "

Clara startled from where she stood at the railing, having been lost in her own musings on whether or not it was the right time to show him what she had found flipping through River's diary. She had done it to begin with in hope to find a clue, a way, an idea to push him to do what he needed to do. Yet in finding what she had, Clara found herself questioning her plan.

"Sorry, time for what?" She quickly tucked Rivers diary behind her back. If the Doctor noticed he didn't act like it.

"To take you home. I think I've occupied your time enough. "

Clara frowned, "Doctor , that's not...I want to be here! Besides its not why I've been ... staring, I've been debating on what to say to you. "

The Doctor just stared at her with a hand resting on the lever he always pulled down when they were about to leave. It was disconcerting how empty his eyes were in that moment.

"You see I've been trying to figure out how to help and earlier I found something. I think you need to read it. " Butterflies swirled in her stomach in worry that he wouldn't listen.

"Not that I read it, well I did a little in order to know what it was." She quickly reassured him. "It was stuck to a page in River's diary, I didn't realize at first that it had been glued there. " She finished. Watching him for any sign that she had gone to far. Clara wondered if he had heard a word she said after being met with a continuing blank stare.

Uncertain on how to proceed Clara jumped as he announced, "it doesn't matter. " She couldn't help the glare she sent was as if the man had a daily quota to meet on how many times he could cause her to nearly wet herself.

"But it does matter! You matter, you being alright matters!"

The Doctor looked away as if burned and Clara took in breath slowly. If he was going to see what she found, if it somehow could help him, she was going to have to make him read it.

"OK, I'll leave, you can take me home and be alone if you read this. " Clara announced with one hand presenting the diary and the other hand went on her hip.

He shook his head, the most normal action he had since The Library, "Clara, I -"

"No, don't. You do want me gone and I get it. It's okay. " Clara interrupted. She took his hand and tugged as she continued. " Please just sit and read this and if you still want to be alone that's fine."

After pushing him down to sit on the steps leading to the upper level, she flipped to the page he needed to see, relieved he wasn't fighting her.

She handed it over and after wringing her hands awkwardly Clara walked away and out of the TARDIS.

The Doctor watched her go, feeling the blue leather cover beneath his fingers. He had planned to never touch it again . Now here he was with it in hands making the longing for her almost unbearable.

Closing his eyes, he stilled his erratic hearts and gazed down at where Clara had bookmarked River's diary. The middle section of a folded letter was glued to the center of a diary page. He lifted the top and bottom folds to reveal her scrolling handwriting, the sight of it made the longing for her worse..

He slipped his glasses, Amy's glasses, out of a pocket and took in her message meant for him. With each word he felt his hearts grow heavier and his throat constrict, tears slowly escaping.

_My dearest love,_

_I know if you are reading this our paths no longer cross. The tangled knots of our joined lives have reached their end. I have thought for the longest time on what to say and I am not certain even as I write this how to express my hopes to you, or how deeply I love you. Words are inadequate, no language can convey the truest depth of love. A love I don't think either of us expected._

_That is why I worry, because I know that when I am no longer around you will feel the centuries of loss that much more. And it saddens me the heart break I've seen you suffer, let alone what you have endured before us and what you will endure after. Please my love do not let it take you away, make you afraid. You are stronger than you realize and braver than you ever give yourself credit for._

_You can find way to move on again. Don't shake your head and grumble that it isn't true. You have loved and lost before me and I know you are able, I know you need too. Please let me go._

_I don't know how this will get to you and doubt you'll ever read my diary. Though once I am gone you are welcome to, perhaps it will finally ease your conscious to know that my life was full and happy. The Silence did not rob me of my life or even my child hood, they were merely a part of it. I had you and my parents, I've had friends and I have had the greatest adventures. Noone could ask for more._

_You were the best part of it all and I wouldn't trade a day of it, not for normality or for the days I lost. Not for a life out side of prison or life lived out on earth. I was most alive when you were at my side. Isn't that what love is? Love isn't the happy ending or the perfection of desires and wishes or even needs fulfilled. It is in the trying and the running, and yes, the jumping from spaceships._

_You always did catch me and even if the end of my journey came because of the one time you couldn't, I don't blame you. I never could, I made my choices and I'll always choose you. I can't imagine that changing._

_Love is at its best when everything is laid on the line. The world is falling apart and you look into anothers eyes and know that no matter if you fail, if you are scared or lost, that person see's only you and doesn't care about the rest. That is the love you've shown me even when I was very far from lovable. I hope you know how much that meant to me._

_I know there will be dark days and moments when it all is far too much. Please know my love, I will always be there with you, just listen and don't be scared. Find someone to hold your hand and run with you. The rest will find its place._

_Live my love and be happy._

The Doctor swallowed back a sob. He had been desperately trying to hold on to all he had left of her and here she was telling him to let go. With a a slow release of held breath he felt a chill in every bone, he now knew what he had to do. For the first time in years he properly cried, it shook his shoulders and pulled a broken hearted cry from his lips to echo through the halls of old time ship. Now was the time to do what he never could before, even when he tried. This time he was finally going to let her go...because she asked him.

There was nothing he wouldn't do for his wife, for River Song

| Kudos and comments are welcome! |


	5. C4 Can You Hear That Hopeful Heart?

Wanted this to be out sooner but I got sick. I'm beginning to think every two weeks is gonna be the norm. *sigh*

This update was originally four scenes but that got changed when one scene alone became a monster. I'm thinking, if I get the other few scenes done quickly along with five comments on this one, I might be persuaded to post the next chapter early.

Another thanks goes out to my amazing beta HellNHighHeels (at AO3). Who for some strange reason enjoys editing my mess.

Warning! You might need tissues.

**Chapter Four- It's Been a Long Time Coming, Can You Hear That Hopeful Heart?**

"**W**hy were morgues, even 51st century ones, always so grey and bleak? While fitting, in the sense Clara couldn't imagine colour really helping, it also only added to the sense of despair those grieving felt.

It wasn't all that long ago she had stood with another man, the husband of her friend, and felt the same thing. Of course it had hit closer to home, being someone she knew and loved. And though she hadn't known the Doctors wife, she could feel it even now, the deep resounding sadness. She would have cried except she couldn't help but feel she needed to be strong for him. He was the one who had lost, not just once but twice, and now with no chance left for a real goodbye.

Once they had arrived at the space station that had taken in most of the survivors from The Library, Clara noticed The Doctor seemed to go from his quiet grief, that he had since he read the letter, back to retreating in on himself even more so than before. He gave very little indication that he even knew where he was or what was going on, barely paying attention as they went through the procedures to come view and claim his wife.

Thankfully the TARDIS had produced the necessary 'paperwork' to get them in and the Doctor was recognized without issue as Professor Song's husband. Clara was especially grateful that Vastra had come along again. The Lizard woman's quiet presence was comforting and she helped to prod him and say the right things when needed.

It had been explained to Clara, before they arrived, that The Doctor had to claim River and declare his own wishes before the system followed procedure. A procedure that could reveal that River wasn't a typical human, and in the wrong hands her remains could be a weapon. She had felt sick at hearing that, not from what he said, so much as the way he explained it. The way in which his voice cracked and how guilt had been written all over his face.

While there was so much she didn't know about River Song or their history together, Clara knew enough now to know it was, at the least, complicated. Though it was obvious how much they had loved each other, it was equally clear how painful it all had been.

Clara couldn't imagine loving someone like that. Just being an observer after the fact was breaking her heart.

Before she knew it, being lost in her thoughts and observations of him as she was, they were standing in what Clara assumed was a morgue. Or rather some sort of mortuary lounge?

While the rest of the station had been filled with colour this room was awash in a greyish white tone, virtually every item and surface. It gave a strange alien quality to the place, more so than the TARDIS console room or anything else she had experienced yet.

The only colour in the large two -storey room were the lights and toggles on the consoles along the back wall, left of the entrance. Across the room from the consoles there was a wall sized window into what appeared to be a storage bay. The view entitled visitors to see what Clara could only assume were freezer units for... She couldn't even finish the thought. Some how the whole thing was suppose to offer comfort?

Near the center of the strange mortuary were seats, which they were informed to use while they waited. Clara glanced at the Doctor for probably the billionth time, noticing that he had come to stand behind the seats, staring out at the storage bay window with that far off look in his eyes he had been wearing since Vastra's. She didn't think he was really seeing any of it and found herself aching to see his hands flailing about, the slight fidgeting he was prone to. The only thing familiar was his usual old man stance, although the stoop in his shoulders appeared more pronounced, like he was carrying a even greater weight on his back than usual.

After a few minutes of them waiting, a pale white man with deep yellow eyes wearing a dark grey plain robe approached. He came from the right side of the lounge, where Clara could see a row of eight or so plain doors with numbers signs above them.

The pale man stopped just before the Doctor and took out a small scanner, not unlike ones used in department stores to check prices. He ran the device over the back of the Doctors hand where it, earlier had been stamped with a identification and collections stamp, to verify their presence. Satisfied he gave a slight bow and intoned, "Our deepest regret on your loss. " When the Doctor gave no reaction he continued, "For convenience your loved one is being moved into privacy room 5. " He handed the Doctor what looked like a ticket or receipt before bowing again and walking away. Clara scowled at his retreating backside, bothered by how abrupt and insensitive that was.

The Doctor stared down at the slip of paper in his hands as if it he couldn't quite make sense of why he was given in it. Watching him, Clara felt guilty and wondered how'd he react once they were actually in privacy room 5. Would he be much the same or fall apart?

Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to push him.

When his gaze moved from the paper back to the window, Clara found herself standing. Not sure if it was the right thing to do or if he'd even notice, she went to him. Carefully removing the receipt barely hanging from his hand and replacing it with her own. Vastra eyes caught hers, giving an approving nod before she turned her gaze to the window. Though the Doctor said nothing, Clara felt his hand tighten ever so slightly around her own as they watch River's preservation unit being moved across the storage bay and towards where the privacy rooms were.

Once they could no longer follow its progress and a dull yellow light above the door labeled 5 began to flash did they make their way over. The Doctor came to a halt in the door way, acting like a brick wall, forcing Vastra and Clara to have to push past him or stand behind him and wait. Neither bothered to comment about it as they knew it wouldn't change anything. Instead they, gently as possible, squeezed by him and came into the room.

Inside a single table like structure sat in the center. The preservation unit sat on top of it with a small row of lights blinking across its side. Unlike how some cryo pods and similar things in sci-fi movies had a window to see the face there was no such option. The unit was white, shaped like a cylinder, with identification markings and flashing indicators. The latter probably to show it was working properly.

A voice suddenly came over a speaker, startling the two women, "Welcome to Privacy unit 5. Here you may take however long you need, preform any ceremonies or religious rites on behalf of " there was a slight pause before the voice continued, "River Song, Archeology Professor of Luna University, wedded partner of Doctor John Song. Designated human, born on ..."

For the first time since coming on the station, the Doctor properly reacted. A long deep gutteral cry escaped him and Clara watched helplessly as he leaned into the door frame, various emotions crawled across his face as if he battled each and every one of them.

While he struggled to regain his composure, the uncaring disembodied voice continued on "...vation units are designed for easy transportation. Should you need help relocating your loved one to your vessel, please do not hesitate to ask one of the staff. "

When it seemed like they were about to get another announcement Vastra hit a button on a panel by the door. "No more of that, thank you!" She glanced at the Doctor and then to Clara.

What exactly should they do? It was the unspoken question that passed between them as the Doctor stared at the unit. Traces of tears stained his face, though he wore a mask of calm detached grief.

The question of what to do became a mute point as the Time Lord finally took a step towards the table. His progress was slow, every step bringing him that much closer to her and all he had avoided for years. Clara wondered how long he'd have continued to avoid this if things hadn't changed. She supposed with a time machine he could almost indefinitely.

Once he stood before it, the Doctor leaned his hands on the edge of the table and bowed his head. Just as she was about to ask him if there was anything she could do, Clara felt Vastra's hand on her shoulder, telling her to stay.

It was hard to just wait, to feel useless while he went through all the pain.

After several long breaths, he looked up and pressed a button on the unit. It suddenly opened with a hiss of cold air, causing Clara to jump a little, her attention between the unit and The Doctor, whose mask was still firmly in place. Despite the preservation units almost tube shape the sides somehow folded outward. The process was slow, creating a mist just around and over the table. When it was all finished, the mist cleared, leaving only a sheet covered form along with the top and end of the unit remaining up right.

All three sets of eyes stared at the sheet. No one moved or spoke.

Twice he lifted his fingers up to brush the edge of the sheet, and both times he sharply pulled them back.

It was one thing to come and retrieve her, say goodbye to a box or a tomb representing her. It was another thing to lift a sheet back and actually see her and confirm the horrible truth.

Eventually the need to know for certain she was there dominated over his fears. He needed to see if that cryptic page from her diary was somehow involved in all of this.

The Doctor took in a great lung full of air to steady his nerves before releasing it slowly. He lifted his hand once more to the edge of the sheet, this time taking it up and gently, reverently, pulling it down.

He wasn't entirely sure how he was expecting to feel. A part of him, The Doctor supposed, had hoped he'd find someone else, that he would have this miracle of a mystery, of finding she was alive, that the damn bit of her diary had meant something. He'd held onto hope that he's track her down and hold her once more.

Instead she lay there like a sculpture, beautiful, life like and yet so far away from the land of the living.

Closing his eyes, he fought the sob that threatened to tear from his throat. After a minute he managed to get the overwhelming screaming grief in check. Feeling grateful not only for the patient, understanding, and silence of the two women, but also for their presence. Being alone here would have crushed him.

The Doctor slowly opened eyes as he gained some semblance of control. First staring at the wall ahead of him before he glanced at Vastra and Clara, noting the worry and care on their faces, the younger woman's red rimmed eyes as she watched him. He had a fleeting thought that he should smile, but he couldn't muster the effort to pretend to be even a little bit alright. His eyes finally drifted back down to his wife without his permission.

Ever so gently he brushed a hand over her hair. Unable to recall lifting his hand to touch her in the first place, as he ran his fingers through the stiff red curls. He longed for the rich gold colour and soft fullness that once embodied them like magic. It hurt to look at her face, so serene and at peace, yet devoid of even an ounce of life and wearing the evidence of her sacrifice in the marks branded into her skin from when she connected to the library main frame.

He had seen death many times, watched as life faded out, but this was so different. _His_ River, her warmth and smile, laughter and mayhem, all lost. It was wrong and painful and most definitely not real.

How could she be gone? All these years under his belt and he found he just couldn't grasp it. It wasn't the first time he'd ever lost someone he loved, but after all this time it wasn't any easier. In some ways it was harder.

He felt his knees start to give, it was like someone was sitting on his chest and robbing him of his breath. He gasped trying to stay up right, felt the supportive hand of one of the women on his back. Not much but enough to help, to keep him standing.

Had it always been this hard to grieve? Or was it his age? Lately he had been feeling it more than ever before. The young appearance and youthful energy could not hide forever the bone weary weight that came with age and experience. And loss. Loss was more than enough to make even the shortest life wander into the fringes of insanity. What would happen to a Time Lord if he kept losing?

Pulling himself up fully, he let his fingers drift back into her hair, seeking a warmth he knew he wasn't going to find.

"I waited." For some reason he found words leaking out of his mouth. He wondered, as they did, if it was a need to explain to them or console himself in some way.

"I kept thinking after Darilluim that a younger version of her would surprise me. Come walking through the TARDIS doors, high heels and trouble. " A touch of a smile teased his lips despite the grief filling his lungs. "And I'd be able to look at her, touch her, keep her just a bit longer. "

He ran his fingers slowly down her ice cold arm and laid a hand over hers. A part of him wishing, hoping, that his warmth would seep into her and bring her back. A foolish notion but one he felt all the same.

"I did see her. " He shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of something he couldn't define. "Ran into her twice accidentally, short brief moments in time, out of sync. I pretended all was as it always was. " The Doctor remembered clearly how it felt to pretend, the physical pain that had settled deep in his chest from it. How he had acted like her parents were simply just not with him at the time, that he hadn't just sent her off to her death, locked her up in a virtual prison.

He took a shuddering breath from his thoughts before continuing. "But she never did walk through the doors with purpose or come back after those ...two encounters and I couldn't -" He closed his eyes momentarily, " I couldn't cross our time streams again. I had already broken the rules far too many times as it was. " Despite himself and all his attempts to keep it in, a sob escaped him, causing his voice to break. "In the end there was just... nothing. No Amelia or Rory, and no River Song. My Ponds were gone."

At the time, that realization, that was it, that all he had left was the empty cold of being alone, had shattered him.

He couldn't face running off and having adventures, finding some one to replace them. Not because he couldn't learn to enjoy another's company. But because to love another companion, whether as a friend or more would be too much.

None of them ever really did replace each other anyway. Each brought something into his life and when they left they each took a part of him with them. So after all of that loss, what did he have left?

Pain. That was what he had left. Would be all he had left again once Clara was gone. After her he knew it really would be the end, he couldn't imagine being able to rally up the energy required. He had never planned on traveling with anyone again in the first place, but then there had been Clara, a puzzle he simply couldn't ignore. Next time though, would a mystery and a youthful human face be enough? Somehow he didn't think so.

Much of those early days with his shattered hearts were a blur to him. He remembered Vastra, Jenny, and Strax's kindness and days spent sitting in quiet agony, lost in thought. But so much of it was foggy as if he had been drugged or only half alive.

At this moment, as his eyes failed to leave her face, he wished he could live in that blur now. But instead he felt soaked in everything, hyper aware and yet cold inside.

He always thought that he'd know, just know after all the years, centuries even with her in and out of his life, when she was truly gone. Feel it down in his bones, deep in his soul, course through his blood. Like Sarah Jane had said when it came to knowing if he was truly dead. Instead all that he had now was the knowledge that she was gone and that didn't seem to settle. It didn't feel like the truth.

Swallowing and feeling tears come without permission, he leaned forward and placed a kiss on her lips. A last goodbye even though his heart refused to believe it, and all he really wanted to do was tear the universe apart, demand answers, retribution... something to ease the terrible ache inside of him.

Doing none of it, The Doctor put his forehead to hers. Seeking her out and confirming that she wasn't there, he let out a long shuddering breath.

No words came to mind to say or seem fitting. Instead he cupped the sides of her face, one last loving caress before pressing a kiss to her forehead and stepping back.

The cold hyper sensitive awareness didn't cease, but some of the pressure in his chest eased, the beginning of closure.

Whatever that page from her diary was about or why she faded from the Library, he'd likely never understand but he did know, at least by the confirmation of sight and touch, that she was properly and truly gone.

_Touch._

He frowned, feeling a sense of something. A glimmer of a thought... something he missed._Touch._ He had touched her and...

"What am I missing? " He asked aloud to no one. His eyes skirted over her and all that over awareness of light and sound, of senses that had been overwhelming him suddenly focused.

He would have basked in relief if he hadn't been so intent on figuring out what he had noticed but obviously had not computed to his conscious mind.

Clara and Vastra looked at each other and worriedly back at the Doctor, uncertain if this sudden shift in behavior was a good sign.

The Doctor was staring at River intently, replaying everywhere he had touched her just now. His fingers reached out again, running through her hair, down her arm.

"No no!" He exclaimed loudly in frustration.

Vastra took a careful step toward him, "Doctor what is it? What's wrong? "

Any relief Clara would have felt at the clarity in his eyes was quickly replaced by confusion and concern at his response.

"It's not right! "

"What isn't? " Vastra moved closer to him.

"That's the problem " He growled, his hands flitting over River as if she was hot to the touch and if they rested to long he'd get burned. "I know something isn't right, but what? "

Clara felt herself start to cry. He was losing it, his movements were frantic and she'd never seen that look on his face before. It wasn't the grief he'd been wearing but a cross between anger and something she couldn't define.

She opened her mouth to say something, not really sure what when he turned sharply to Vastra.

"The page! " he snapped his fingers, " The page from her diary! Give it now! "

Vastra quickly pulled it out from where she had tucked it inside her vest earlier and handed it over. Her head tilted slightly as she watched him and tried to make sense of what was going on.

The Doctor opened the folded paper up, ignoring most of what was there. Looking for what, he did not know. When he wasn't immediately able to spot it, he began to read it from the top of the page, still frantically searching for an answer.

Mumbling the words out loud, "I am not who I think I am. I am not me... this is not my skin! " Parts of that repeated over and over. Some of it written in slightly darker or lighter ink than the rest. Indicating that it wasn't all written at the same time, a fact supported by the occasional line in a different colour.

For four months, at least, she had felt this way. It hurt to think of his River suffering and finding a version of him that didn't even know her. One she couldn't find comfort in or answers to her torment.

In-between the repeated line were other bits. Ones that barely made sense, but from what he could gather were descriptions of dreams.

One word leapt up at him from a simple sentence. 'The flesh it burned.'

_Flesh._

'Flesh' was important but it too, like 'touch', seemed to elude him. But _burn_, that word connected. He found his eyes going to her jaw, his fingers following along. He ran them along her jawline from the top of her ear on down, similar to when he had cupped her face. This time though with clinical intent.

The Doctor wasn't certain what he expected to find when his fingers arrived to where her burn should be . A burn or no burn he supposed. One or the other, not this.

The skin in the spot was different, the same way the scar from a burn would be, but it didn't feel right. He frowned. His touch memory was insisting it wasn't right but a part of him wondered if he was just... grasping.

Yet.

He remembered when she got that burn. She had a few spread out over her body like he did. A fun adventure that had ended a bit more painfully than either of them had intended. The thing was, it all didn't fit. The scar was wrong, like a bad photocopy, and that observation sent his thoughts spinning.

"A copy. " He looked from River to Vastra, "No, like a warped reflection. Neither accurate or wholly inaccurate. "

Vastra took in the clarity of his eyes, deciding for the moment to trust his instincts. If it became apparent that it was a grief driven effort to keep River alive, she'd deal with it then. For now, she'd listen. "I'm not following Doctor. What is more like a reflection? "

"Warped reflection" He corrected. "Her burn is wrong." he added quietly,while pushing the sleeve up one of River's arms. His fingers traced over the skin and stopped to hover over a particular spot. "There... again! One of the burns on this arm was shaped like a creseant moon but now not a single one has that shape. "

"Are you certain? It has been... a while Doctor. "

The Doctor in normal circumstances might haved blushed at his response, but in this moment, with the tiniest sliver of hope growing in his hearts, he didn't even think about what he was saying. He leaned a little towards her, "If this was Jenny wouldn't you know every scar, every intricacy of her skin? "

Vastra gave a slight nod, "Intimately, Yes." She looked from the Doctor to River then back to him, "Let me see if I understand this. Her scars are not as they should be. A warped reflection, there, but they are not correct?"

"Yes." The Doctor responded distractedly as he took in the sight of her, River on the table and the full reality of the sitution tumbled over him again. She was dead, truly and properly dead, nothing left to hold on to. So why was he putting himself through this? Why was he breaking his promise to let her go?

He ran his thumb over the burns on her arm, closing his eyes and willing them to feel the way they should. Nothing changed, including the feeling deep in his gut, growing in his hearts, that something wasn't right, that she wasn't gone. That the body on the table wasn't the woman he loved.

With over a thousand years riding on science, instincts, experience and even at times 'faith,' The Doctor couldn't ignore the voice whispering to him that at the very least he had to investigate further into why her burns were different. If they were actually different then it gave weight to why River doubted her own flesh. It meant something, implied a possibility, he wasn't ready to put all his hope into yet.

But it was enough, the little hope he did have, to relight a fire inside him. That fire was all he needed to pursue the answers to questions he otherwise would have let go in his despair.

He turned to look at Clara, who was quietly crying, her watery eyes glued to him. When they locked with his own he could see the question in them, the one that asked if he was in his right mind. He needed to assure Clara that he hadn't lost It, not just for her, but for himself.

Pulling himself to his full height, the Doctor took a step towards her, trying to sound a little less like the universe was collapsing around him. " Clara, my Clara... do you trust me? "

"Of course I do Doctor. But its not about trust..."

"Isn't it? Clara, I know you have no reason to believe that it's not just me wanting her to be.." He inhaled deeply before continuing "alive. Truth is, as much as I do want that to be the case, I am not sure if she really is."

Clara glanced at the body and then him,a forlorn expression ruling her features. "Then why are you doing this? Why do that to yourself? "

The Doctor turned back to River and ran fingers tenderly through her lifeless curls once more. It didn't matter that there was some remote possibility that this River laying before him wasn't really River. It looked like her and, in that moment, that was all that mattered.

"I have to know, " he started quietly. "I need to know why that diary page was sent to Vastras, why River's scars are wrong, why the TARDIS or River, her ghost..." he stopped himself. They wouldn't be able to understand that, even if her ghost was just a figment of his mind, he _had _to listen.

He returned his gaze to meet Clara's and asked " If this was someone _you _loved and something wasn't quite right. Wouldn't you want, no! Wouldn't you _need _to find answers?"

Clara starred at him, searching his eyes for what felt like an eternity before finally answering. " Yes, I would. I think I'd do just about anything " she admitted softly.

He gave her a small smile ,"So you'll help me then? "

"Yeah," Clara nodded and wiped her face. When she was done, she gave him a firm look, "I will, only if we investigate properly. There has to be real evidence Doctor, because I think otherwise it would be _it_ for you, and I can't stand with you and watch you tear yourself apart. "

Even though nothing had changed and he really had no idea how this would all turn out, a little burst of relief and hope came bubbling up and out of him. He startled Clara as he pulled her into his arms, lifting her right off her feet and swinging them both around. The grin on his face was the most breath taking sight Clara and Vastra had seen in the last few days. The sight of it put smiles on their own faces.

The Doctor put Clara back down on her feet, a smile still gracing his face till his eyes landed on smile faded. It was one thing to allow the idea of finding answers to take residence in his hearts and another thing to actually, really believe. Like Clara, he needed more evidence, real, tangible evidence.

He ran a hand through his hair, knowing what he needed to do but feeling a touch overwhelmed and a whole lot of relunctance. If the body laying before him was River then what was required next could possibly harm her and that felt a lot like defiling all he had left.

The Doctor felt a tingle cross over his skin, the hairs on the back of his hands and neck standing as a familiar push and pull of reality tightened the air around them. The old girl was stepping in, asserting herself in a way she rarely did, and the question of why she was doing so was quickly dismissed as the timing was perfect and he _needed _this.

Clara was left speechless as a wind ripped around them and everything seemed to simultaneously close in and expand out. The familiar shape of the TARDIS started materializing around River, her wheezing sound filling the privacy room. Before she had a chance to think or react, she felt the Doctor grasp her hand and pull her close.

The room faded out around them to be slowly replaced by a room that some what resembled a hospital room. When they were fully inside the time ship, River's body was laid out on a exam bed, complete with sheets adorned with little bunnies. Clara promised herself she'd ask the Doctor about that later.

The Doctor immediately raced forward to the bed and began to push and tap buttons on a scanner next to the exam bed. Clara noted the change in the Doctor, and judging by the way Vastra also looked at him she saw it too. The idea that something was wrong, that River may not be River had filled her friend with an energy she had never seen before.

If River could do this to him in death, what was he like when she had been alive? Clara hoped to one day know, to have the Doctor be right and River was alive. Not just to see him in what she imagined was his truest form, but because he needed to be right, to have the woman he so clearly loved back.

The Doctor took a step back from the bed and swallowed.

"Doctor, what is it? " Vastra asked, concerned.

He took a long breath in and then blew it out before answering. "The TARDIS is doing a detailed scan of her and already I know... the scars _are_ wrong. "

"Then that is not River."

"No, it isn't. " Hope and fear filled him. Who or what had died at the library? And where was River? Would he even find her ? After all the years looking, and yes, even praying, for a miracle it was almost too much to think it had finally been answered.

* * *

><p><strong>A few days ago in another place and time.<strong>

"**A**nd how are you this morning? "

The only answer to the daily question was one of silence. An answer wasn't possible given that the one it was directed to was suspended in a nutrient fluid, submerged and unable to hear a thing. Still, it didn't stop him from talking to the woman he saw more than anyone else. It was his job, his purpose as her carer, to ensure her well being.

He often wondered what she would sound like and how beautiful she'd be awake and vibrant. Whoever she was beyond the string of letters and numbers assigned to her was a mystery to him. It wasn't his place to know.

"That bad? Well, let's see if I can make it better. " he replied to her imagined complaint. With a few taps and a quick glance at the schedule, he saw there was no appointment that day with the Zeta-path. That meant today was a day for pampering, as much as she could be considering her condition.

Her vitals were good, excellent in fact, and brain activity just as it should be. "How about we do a clean up, reset all the transmitters, and, if time is on our side, I'll throw in a manicure. Sound good? "

The Carer couldn't see a woman like her turning down an offer like that. He had no clue who she was, but he did know two things. She was important enough to have a whole base working to keep her safe and healthy, and she was the sole obsession of the Zeta-path. Not just any woman could garner that much attention.

All of that meant he would give her the best. After all, it was in his nature to care. Without her, he'd be incomplete. Happy that he had a whole uninterrupted day to give to his charge the care she deserved, he began the process of draining the nutrition fluid and simultaneously filling her circular tank with a cleansing wash. Once all of that was done and her tube was horizontal and open, allowing him access to her, did he start combing her curls.

"I know I've said this many times but your hair is simply gorgeous. " He didn't like mentioning to her the absolutely horrid haircut she was forced to have because of all the monitoring equipment. He yearned to grow it out, see her hair in all it's glory. Since he couldn't, he didn't allow himself to dwell on it.

He had just setup to do her nails when the lights flickered. Ignoring it, he grabbed her hand only to frown when it wasn't just the lights but the system that kept her in the specialized sleep state. A disruption could harm her, possibly even kill.

When another disruption hit, followed by an earth shaking bang from somewhere else in the base, the carer quickly began the process of putting her on the back up system. Halfway through there was an explosion far too close to them, then another followed by screams.

Terrified, the Carer looked from the failed back up to his charge and panicked as she was waking up before she was ready; and judging by the continuing sounds of a base under attack, she wasn't safe.

Determined, he retried the back up and closed her tube, sending it into a vertical position against the far wall and letting it once more fill with nutrient fluid, this time heavy with a sedative. He hoped that there she'd be unnoticed by danger and her vitals would settle so she would remain a sleeping beauty.

Stepping into the shadows, he hid to watch over her as he had vowed, making no move to help those he could hear dying outside their room. They weren't under his care.

* * *

><p><strong>Kudos and Comments are food for the writers soul.<strong>


	6. C5 - Looking For a Sign Of Life

A/N: First I'm so sorry for the time between updates. Literally like right after the last one I developed a tooth infection that was nasty and was equally sick from the antibiotic. So writing was ...slow. Won't bore you with the list of life interferences but will say that I won't be saying things like "if I get 5 comments, I'll... " again because it just doesn't end that way.

This was supposed to have more in it but the scenes you do get both turned out to be monsters. Lol, this fic is gonna end up longer than I expected. I am working on next chapter already, one scene done (cause it was supposed to be in this one lol.) So if I'm lucky you imight /i get another chapter soon. No Promises!

I think I should give a feels warning for this one and the next.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5- I'm Looking To the Sky To Save Me, Looking For a Sign Of Life <strong>

**D**eath followed him, or more accurately looped and twisted, danced. It was something he was realizing more and more, understanding with clarity he'd tried not to have. Still, it was there and the woman slumped over lifeless, was the perfect proof of his dance with death.

She died so he wouldn't have to. Like others before her, she had chosen death on behalf of someone else so he could run. The difference this time was she had known.

Known, really and properly known, a secret born from the folly's of youth, a word of power buried.

_"Doctor, one day I'm going to be someone you trust completely "_

It was an idea he couldn't fathom. He had loved Rose, still loved her, but she was gone and how could he just... just... stop? Change? Let that go? But there _she_ was, a Professor of a profession he had invariably found to be akin to astrology for the dead. A waste of time. Even so she came in with her stories of him chasing off enemies with a mere mention of his name and sauntering back to his TARDIS, Oh and don't forget he didn't need a key because he could snap his fingers. It all boarded on fanciful, so incredibly annoying because she trusted him like someone who had seen it all with him, someone he trusted in return.

_But I can't wait for you to find that out._

It turned in his gut, the need to find out. He really wished it was different, that she hadn't said those words because then there wouldn't be some small part of him betraying the rest with the urge to know her like she knew him. What confused him most was how did he get over one person to love another? How? Humans did it, sometimes even without drama. But him?

_So I'm going to prove it to you._

Of all things, his name. A sign of just how _deeply _she would know him, of how _much_ he would trust her. One word and everything changed. She was no longer a stranger because there was no way he would give his name and his screwdriver to someone he didn't know. It was an intimacy he never once imagined he could share with another soul. It carried a responsibility that was far too important to even just hand off to a lover or a friend.

_And I'm sorry, I'm really very sorry._

There was only one reason to be sorry. Sorry came with knowledge and experience, with a deep understanding that he would only ever share with someone he not only loved and trusted but someone who could bear the consequences.

And that was why as he stared at her. He hated himself for loving her enough to let this happen. No, he didn't love her now, but one day. He knew from the look of her diary, remembering her bright eyes, playful jests that it had been good. How much of that diary was filled with days spent with him? Why would he give her rules and play the game when he would remember this moment? What sort of man would he be to let her come and die?

_You and me, time and space. You watch us run._

If he wasn't a monster he'd be a broken man, that he knew for sure. She would one day be someone to him with her sweeties and ...everything and he'd have to let her go.

He closed his eyes and tried to will her away. But he couldn't, not after what she did and her words. Words she used to carve him hallow. She had been in his life a day and already she could pull from him a promise without even asking him to. _Not one line._

A promise he would keep, he would give her bone meadows and picnics, space and time. Some how he would run with River Song, do brilliant and amazing things, give her his name; but he wasn't going to love her. No matter what happened or what they did, he could not afford to love her. Not with the memory of sitting handcuffed and trapped, of eyes wide and empty, staring at him and he couldn't reach over and close them. Only a monster could love her and send her off after that.

The worst truth was, he was exactly that sort of monster.

The Doctor jerked awake with Vastra's voice in his ear and a stab of pain in his hearts. Brushing aside his friend for the moment, his eyes go to her, the body on the bed. Needing to see that her eyes are indeed closed, the relief that they are dies quickly with the realization that, like in his dream, the old memory, she is still lifeless.

_I am that monster._

A thought he's had thousands, if not a million, of times. River possibly being alive didn't negate the fact he still let her walk out the TARDIS doors to die.

"You can't change the past Doctor, I'd advise you don't dwell there. "

He shook his head and wiped his hands down his face in an effort to rid himself of the last visages of the dream from his mind. Earlier he had sent the two women to rest; but as usual ,the only reason he slept was because it snuck up on him.

"You should be sleeping." He replied as his eyes went to the read out above non-River.

"I did. I was not in need of more than a little rest. You, however, look as if you could use years of sleep my friend."

He made a hrmph sound in response. There was no way he would willingly sleep, not with dreams filled with painful reminders. Right now the only thing worth doing was hunting for her, finding answers, which was why he spent the last three hours going over the data sent to the TARDIS from Charlotte and the scans currently running, working up a detailed analysis of what exactly it was laying on the exam bed.

"Is she a ganger, replaced like Amy?" Vastra only knew of the events leading to Demon's Run, not the finer details.

The Doctor shook his head, "No, I checked, though a ganger wouldn't actually be suited for the events at the library. " he frowned slightly at a particular result. The last piece to the puzzle of what non-River was and more importantly a clue as to why.

"How so? "

"Flesh, or ganger, is too much like basic flesh. A duplicate down to the cellular level but unable to reproduce complex helix strands." His ganger had been just like him in many ways, but not all Time lord attributes could be replicated through means of ganger or even cloning. "A ganger wouldn't have been able to do what she...did." he added trying not let his own words settle inside him.

Sighing, the Doctor made to stand when he noted the fresh hot cup of tea sitting next to him. Looking up at Vastra, he managed a small smile, " You're not my wife, Vastra. " he meant it to tease, lighten the mood but it came out tight and moody.

Vastra eyed him a moment before tipping her head to the side, " I shouldn't think so. Your chin is far too big."

He blinked and it took him a second to realize that she was teasing right back. With a slight smile, the Doctor picked up the mug. "I didn't realize you knew how to make tea. "

"Being English, my wife has a fondness for tea, and preferably in bed. So I learned. I do wonder how you managed to get yours to serve you. "

Even though circumstances around them were less than ideal and full of pain, The Doctor had to grin at her come back. River didn't give the domestic impression.

"She used tea as a reward system," he joked, a half truth that felt good to share. "Once cut me off for two weeks, claiming I used too much sugar and needed a detox. The month I spent with otters, when she took off mad, was a vacation in comparison."

Vastra chuckled and the Doctor took a tentative sip of his tea, blowing on it and remembering the smirk River wore when he lost a bet. His sugar and tea addiction had got the best of him. He loved that smirk, any movement of her luscious lips, really. What he wouldn't do just to be able to run his thumb over them one more time.

He took a swallow of his tea in an attempt to fight off the direction his thoughts were heading. The almost scalding liquid did very little to distract him from it...her, laying only 20 feet away. His thoughts began spinning again, with everything starting to make sense there was still far too many unanswered questions. The most important one right now being: where was River?

While the faux River obviously implied she was alive, there was also a very real likelihood she wasn't. Whether because whatever reason she was taken for didn't require her alive or more likely, because she died from whatever disconnected her from the library. On top of those terrifyingly real possibilities, there was every chance River was suffering. Imprisonment, torture, neglect, more brainwashing to undo everything they had worked hard to free her from, and more.

All of it tempered any excitement and joy he might have had. It added a sense of urgency that clawed at his insides. They needed to hurry, only there was no immediate fix. If he was going to find her, he needed more information to add on to his growing pile of facts and results.

He took another swallow, pretending he hadn't noticed his pint sized companion come in.

"Who do I thank for the lovely cup of tea? " Clara asked just before she failed to stifle a yawn. She came to stand next to them, the cup of tea in question held between her hands.

He could tell that she must have slept fitfully, there were shadows under her eyes and the way she looked at him said volumes. Unlike Vastra, who was able to compartmentalize, separate friendship from the emotional aspect of the situation and keep her head clear, Clara had no such skill. Like him, her ability to keep her heart separate was stretched thin.

The Doctor was grateful for Vastra's detachment and for Clara's emotion. He needed them both, though he felt guilt for putting Clara through this, for needing her at all.

Only half listening to the two women exchange pleasantries, he put his tea down and went to the controls by the exam bed. One of the results of the scanning revealed one of two cloning techniques. The only way to confirm, and possibly trace where River was, would damage the body before him.

Though he now knew it wasn't River, he still found it hard to treat it like it wasn't her. What if they never found her? Then he would have defaced the only connection with her. Bile rose in his mouth, he turned away to collect himself.

"Doctor are you alright?" Clara asked.

He nodded, took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. It was time to detach himself, it was just a body. He reminded himself there was also one very important thing to remember: the diary page sent to Vastra that started all of this . The odds were in favour of it being done to push him to find River alive, rather than it being simply to torment him.

"No, not really " The Doctor finally admitted with a sad smile, "But it's time to do what needs to be done." He went back over to the controls and closed his eyes as his finger hovered over the ironically big red button, fighting with himself one last time.

_Please, let me go._

Drawing strength from her, he hit the button and opened his eyes to watch with the women as the faux River's head began to melt away under the beam of intense light.

Hair, flesh, and muscle dissolving away until all that was left was gold toned bone of an abnormal skull. The face of the skull was fine but inside the base it was intricately honeycombed. The Doctor switched it off.

Vastra stepped nearer and bent to peer closely at it, "What is it? " her eyes narrowed further, "I do believe the bone is sparkling.

"A Mizirian host clone, " he took a step back ,watching as Clara moved in to also get a closer look. " it sparkles because it's not bone, rather a type of crystal."

"Crystal? " Clara asked incredulously. "Why create or use a clone with a crystal skull instead of bone?"

The Doctor took a step around the table to peer at the skull from the other side. Relieved he could explain something that, while related to River, was a subject all its own. "Transfers, relays and sustains neural data better than brain and bone. The whole skull, even inside is the same form of crystal. Undetectable from most scans and reliable under most circumstances. A Mizirian clone was made for war. "

Pulling out his sonic, the Doctor began waving it back and forth over the skull, scanning it for any signals or traces of them. " The Mizirians created these clones to keep up with the rapidly reproducing insectiod Khokrine. Mizirians were peaceful but forced into war to protect their territory. In order to prevent the loss of more life, they developed clones, flesh, blood and bone. Only these skulls were crystal, they behaved much like a data cloud. A soldier could remain on a completely different planet and connect to a clone. "

"Like through Wi-Fi? " Clara asked with a shiver, remembering her own personal experience.

"Yeah... like Wi-Fi, you humans... constant obsession with it. " He looked between Clara and the sonic before changing his mind. " No check that, nothing like Wi-Fi. "

Clara rolled her eyes as he continued, " during battle if one clone went down the consciousness of the soldier could be quickly and efficiently transferred to another clone ready and waiting. Highly advanced clones and rare since the war happened oh about 3,000 years ago."

"Okay...why though? Why use one for the Library?"

"Transferring. " The Doctor inhaled and struggled not to picture her with a tear rolling down her face.

_It's okay. Its okay, it's not over for you. You'll see me again. You've got all of that yet to come. _

"Transferring. " he repeated, closing his eyes, forcing himself to explain. "River hooked herself up to the data core, providing additional memory space so the... people trapped in the system buffer could be beamed out. The computer didn't have enough memory on it's own. There was no way," he swallowed and opened his eyes. " there was no way to survive that. It burned out both her hearts. I used a neural relay to transfer a copy, an echo of her to the data core. Or I thought . "

He hated all of this, trying to find answers, a clue where to find her. It felt like it was taking life times. Another reminder of why he skipped ahead whenever possible. He just wanted her, to hold her and never let her go.

"This clone was chosen because River provided the additional memory and then transfered into the data core, all without her losing connection with her ...actual body. Far superior to a ganger. "

"What I don't understand is if these clones were so advanced how come hers wasn't exact " Clara asked, glancing at him with an apology in her eyes. Still she continued on as she should. "her burns, you said they were wrong. Seems to me that if you're going to replace someone you'd want to get their doppleganger accurate. "

"Only if accuracy was more important than function." Looking at the sonic, the Doctor frowned before waving it back and forth over the skull, partially to scan but also because it gave him something to do while he explained. "Which in this case function was absolutely the most important part."

Confusion was plainly written all over Clara's face when his eyes flicked up, "I don't understand. Why wouldn't her looking exact be as important ? What if you had realized right then that it wasn't really River?"

Of course she'd wonder. A fair question since all she knew about the library was that was were he had lost River. The first and last meeting had never been brought up. He wasn't sure if Clara had even caught on to the out of order element that dominated their relationship.

"Because I wouldn't know. Clara, the Library isn't just where River died. It's where I first met her. Most of our relationship was out of order, including how we each met the other. I didn't know who she was. She was just some archaeology professor who had bumbled her way into a death trap, and, rather annoyingly, knew everything about me." He had stood to his full height and sighed. "I wouldn't know to check for burns or any other detail that wasn't immediately visible. They only needed to make sure that upon reflection years later I wouldn't question it. And I never did. "

Clara nodded and bit the tip of her finger in thought. "Wait though... what if you, a you that knew her, had run into the clone her before the Library. "

The Doctor gave a humourless smile, "And that is good question. Why replace her with at least four months to spare. Why not do it just before? "

Vastra tilted her head, "lack of opportunity? "

"Possible, though it could mean they simply wanted to make sure she was functioning properly. Whatever the reason, it does tell us several things about who took her and, to answers your question, Clara, I don't know. "

"Okay, but why risk it? "

Sighing at the lack of results his sonic was reporting, The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "They didn't know and they, whoever they are, weren't concerned. The burns are the clones only flaw, a flaw they obviously had no idea about. Hyperstenic flash burns are not visible any more than they are genetic. " All of Rivers other scars were there. He had checked.

"So it was luck that you just didn't happen to run into clone River beforehand. "

"To a degree. There is still no guarantee I would have realized, just because I did now doesn't mean I would have thought anything of it. Whoever did this knew what they were doing, even with this mistake. They knew when she was supposed to die. They had means to replace her with a virtually extinct type of almost undetectable clone. Though you're right, they did get lucky on the scar, till now. "

"Which someone made certain by ensuring you'd see the diary page. " Vastra remarked.

The Doctor nodded and snapped his fingers at that. "Exactly, without that page to set things in motion I'd have remained clueless ."

Clara gingerly touched the skull as she thought out loud. "They must be able to time travel, if they knew when she dies."

"Yes, and it makes this likely about me. They were careful not to change my timeline. But we have a problem. " He gestured down at the clone. "Any traces of chronons or other indictors of exactly _when _River might be are too faint and unstable. And because River is no longer directly connected to the clone or the Library, I can't trace that signal either. "

The Doctor once again found himself marveling at the time ship's recent behavior. Was this because of who River was to her or because she knew something she wasn't able to share with him? "The TARDIS has successfully narrowed down the possibilities, but it could be a while before she can give me something solid. In the meantime, there is more to be done. "

He pressed his lips together, willing all of this to happen faster. Since it wasn't going to, he'd gather some answers for himself. There was one person on the station that might just be able to shed a little light towards understanding why this happened in the first place.

Clara gave him a light smile, " So we have a place to start? "

The Doctor returned her tentative smile, giving himself permission to enjoy the thought of River being alive, for that moment. "Yes, we do. And that means Vastra, I need you to stay here. You can relay the results if the TARDIS makes a break through on finding us a when and where. "

The Silurian nodded while the Doctor straightened his jacket and fixed his bow tie. Pushing aside all his mixed feelings, he said, "Come along Clara. We've an appointment to make."

* * *

><p><strong>Not long before The Library <strong>

**A** warm breeze played through her hair, causing wispy curls to tickle her face. The air was sweet with a salty tang, not unexpected on a world made up of a few islands and vast amounts of ocean. The water was a slight shade of pink to match the soft pinkish purple sky. The sea that surrounded the sparkling towers went on in all directions for as far as the eye could see, giving an impression of endlessness.

River found the view calming, even if the towers didn't sing, Darillium was breathtaking. The towers, themselves were honey combed crystalized structures, a little wider than the TARDIS console room and standing at least 40 floors as they stretched up towards the sun that produced a unique radiation.

While harmless to most humaniod species, the 18 towers took the radiation in greedily .There were two others that no longer sang. The one they were in was 'dead' and though it had stopped singing, it still retained its warmth and sparkling beauty. It gave them a cozy alcove for their date, warm, peaceful and with a gorgeous concert view. The other tower was not only dead but blackened from time, devoid of song with a surface too cold to touch.

The history of the towers formation was simply science, but why they sang remained a mystery. The melody was hauntingly beautiful, and never the same from day to day. In centuries to come, when the place became a luxury tourist resort, it would be rumoured that the towers were the tombs of spirits of a long dead race and it was that race's soul that sang. A beautiful idea even if unlikely.

For them it was the end of an all out date. He'd shown up in a new suit and hair cut, a smile playing on the corner of his lips and his eyes full of an emotional torrent, brimming beneath the surface.

She had let him sweep her along from one place to another, even managing to run into a younger version of him. A pity he wouldn't let the three of them live out her favorite fantasy.

But the singing Towers of Darillum, before another soul would lay eyes on them, was the ultimate romantic locale, the fulfillment of a years long wish.

The whole place, even with the musical mystery, was simple, intimate and beautiful. There was no adventure to be had, no pretense, just them and view being serenaded. A dream come true and yet her eyes kept flickering from the sunrise to him and her hearts felt heavy.

The torrent she had seen when he picked her up had spilled out, leaving her to know her husband was sad. No, that word didn't cover it, he was heart broken. Yet she had no idea why and he wouldn't say. Even intimately, he had it shut behind a door and he had only a few of those left, most she knew were for things in his past, things he hid from or things he hid from everyone. No exceptions.

Whatever this was, it rattled him to his core; and try as she might, she couldn't stop the slight bit of hurt from momentarily forming that he wouldn't tell her. Especially when he obviously needed to, when it caused silent tears to stream down his face while he clung to her like a life line.

They had made love and he had explored her the way he had their first time together, like she was the universe and he needed to see and touch it all. The tower's melody weaving around them, echoing their hearts.

It left her feeling deeply loved, but there was a longing in his touch and in the song woven around them. It made her warm and sad; and when it was over, they had lied in each others arms but he was light years away. She had eventually kissed his cheek and wrapped a sheet around her to look out at the view, leaving him to his thoughts. His eyes, as she moved from his side, would stick with her for a long time. In them she could see he was begging her for something that she could not grasp, it flitted away to be covered with a mask of sadness.

It wasn't uncommon for him to have moods, days when he was heavy from loss and memories and retreated a bit into himself . She had been through a number of them with him as he had with her.

Putting the touch of hurt she felt aside, River reminded herself that just as she liked to protect him from some of what she had been through he did the same for her.

She continued to stare out at the towers above the sea, filled with colours just below the light pink surface. Variations of blues, greens, and oranges teased through the pink and were captured by the facets in the crystal towers, adding to their sparkle.

River tried not to let her thoughts focus on him, but questions swirled in her head. It was him crying that refused to be left alone. What had he seen or done to do this to him? To make him so heartbroken.

Her thoughts were interrupted at the feel of him behind her, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her to him. Her back was to his front in a tight embrace, the side of his chin resting against the side of her face.

No words were spoken between them, just the sound of the towers singing around them and the rhythm of their four hearts. His beating one after another, hers beating together in the space between his single beats. It was a comforting adagio, easing away her troubled thoughts.

Of course the thousand year old child could only handle the silence for so long. "There is an isle not far from here where the volcanic soil has mixed with remnants of towers that once stood there. The effect of the two, I hear, is equally beautiful."

She smiled at the offer, so like him. "You really want to go all out don't you?" His reply was to kiss her temple before working his way down, tipping her head to the side, laving her neck with hot kisses, nips and licks.

River closed her eyes and moaned, struggling to add "it does make a... ohh mMm ...a girl wonder why. "

He took a moment to respond, focused on her neck and all the wonderful sensations he was causing her. Eventually his kisses and wandering hands stilled and with one last tender kiss, he turned her in his arms to face him.

"Travel with me again " he asked softly, clearly avoiding the topic on why so much extravagance. River did note a odd tone in his voice. It almost sounded like the question was a last ditch effort.

She gave him a soft smile and brought a hand up to cup his face, running her thumb over his lips. "Not sure that is a wise idea love. "

"Why not? It was good last time wasn't it? No meeting out of order and all that running we did together. All the things we saw."

"All the fantastic sex " she shamelessly added. He didn't disappoint her in reaction, blushing quite nicely. Her husband: the man of walking contradictions. He loved the sex just as much as her, yet so often acted the prude at the mere mention, even in private.

"River! " He lightly scolded with that single word. "River, please stay with me."

Oh those ancient eyes of his, making her feel that if she turned him down it would be as if she had run over his favorite dog. "I don't want to be alone, I miss you. " he added, twisting the guilt in deeper.

She almost gave in but until she could fathom why his mood was so back and forth it really wasn't wise.

"Yes, it was good, it was wonderful even. " she replied to his earlier question. It had been good, once they got through the worst of the shared grief over her parents.

" So why say no?"

"Sweetie, we had nearly four straight years of getting into trouble. I'm not sure if the universe could take it again. " The things they done definitely supported the idea that two psychopaths is one too many.

"It doesn't have to be trouble, I can be good."

She laughed softly, "Well so can I but together I think we just feed the crazy, and you don't need to be lonely, just jump ahead."

He shook his head, his next words surprising her. "I can't... "

River frowned confused. The Doctor hated waiting, he would never be... Her eye's widen as it hit her. "You haven't been skipping have you? "

He didn't answer, instead he brushed aside curls to run the back of his finger down her check.

"Why? For how long? " This wasn't good, it worried her. It wasn't good for him to travel alone too long, which was why she encouraged frequently for him to find someone. Lately he kept putting it off, it didn't help that when he had tried to find someone to run with it hadn't worked. Manhattan was still a dark shadow that followed him.

"A while, I don't want to miss what we have left. " His voice was so small, so sad. "If I jumped too far I could lose years with you. "

Now she understood. He was trying to keep every moment with her, struggling along the slow path for her. River pulled him close and kissed him soundly. When they parted, she kept her arms around his neck, rolling her eyes at him fondly. "Yes, I'll travel with you but not yet, I've some projects I'd like to do and then we can cause trouble."

He grinned and kissed her back hard though his eyes did not share the joy. "Stay with me now, you can go back and do the projects later. "

She shook her head, "Patience sweetie. Besides do you really want to go on archaeological digs when I get an itch for the 'boring and stuffy ' ?"

"I can do boring and stuffy. You've always said my tweed and bow tie could fit right in. " He was pleading and trying not to sound like it. It was obvious that his desire for her company, to not miss a moment with her, wasn't the only reason for his pain. Nor was it the driving force for this special date.

River cupped his face with both hands, attempting to read in his eyes and feel with touch what had brought all this about. "Sweetie, what happened? "

He looked away. "I can't." A simple statement that alarmed her probably more than it should. She turned his face back so she could see his eyes.

She saw so much sadness before he covered it up along with something she didn't see from him to often. It broke her heart. Hopelessness.

"Spoilers?"

He nodded and she bristled, not for herself but for him.

"Why? You've never been exactly good about following that rule." She ran a thumb across his cheek. "Please tell me what's eating you. "

He shook his head and took her hands from his face, holding them both between their chests.

"I really can't say. I'm sorry, I ... " He trailed off, his eyes scanning her face, giving her the impression he was trying to speak to her through them.

River closed her eyes, unable to stand it. To fail at grasping what it was he needed hurt more than him keeping whatever it was from her. All she had ever wanted, from the first moment she realized she loved him, was to heal his pain. The Doctor, the one man who understood what it was to be dark inside and always searching for light.

Just as she was about to turn away she felt his hands tenderly slide up to hold her face. She opened her eyes and was surprised when he swooped down, crashing his lips to her, kissing her like a starving man. Though he refused to speak of his pain, his lips and tongue against hers told her that he was so very close to falling apart.

She couldn't answer his unspoken question but she could return his hunger. With equal fervor, she kissed him back until he had his fill and pulled away with sweet little pecks.

It didn't surprise her that he once again avoided the topic, "I've a gift for you! "

She blinked, not having expected that particular announcement. "A gift? " They didn't usually do gifts, not generally wise with all the back to front.

The Doctor genuinely beamed and River found herself mirroring his grin of excitement. "Yes, a gift... my goodness woman, can I not give you something? "

She laughed, feeling anticipation pool in her stomach as he grabbed her hand and pulled her back to their nest of blankets and pillows. It took a great deal of careful footing and grace to not lose the sheet wrapped around her and sit without falling over.

He plopped down like a kid at Christmas and reached for his jacket. Despite the happy exuberant air, River still felt the sting of sadness about him. He had successfully masked it now, every action and smile real but he couldn't hide it completely from her or undo his failure to pretend earlier.

There was nothing she could do about it but go along with his show of happiness and trust he'd reveal what was bothering him in time.

The Doctor pulled out a small slim black box with a red ribbon wrapped around it and tied into a small bow. His smile wavered and he took a deep breath as he switched from excited child to thoughtful husband, holding the gift out to her like it was an item of immense value. "River... I know...I don't... I mean well, it's just. "

River watched him fondly, loving this side of him. The one that was just her husband. No Time Lord, no broken lonely god, wandering child or Oncoming storm. Only the man who was madly in love with her and stuttered when trying to speak.

"Words, honey... they exist for a reason. "

"Yeah, " he blushed, bless him, and ran a hand through his already messed up hair. "Right...right. River, I know we don't often give each other gifts but this has actually been one I've planned for a very long time. "

By the look in his eyes River felt an added depth to his words, an importance that she wasn't sure she understood. What could he possibly be giving her to account for this?

"You came into my life like a series of atom bombs."

She raised a brow at that, causing him to pause and scowl at her. "What? It's not every day a girl gets compared to something of such _magnitude_."

"Riiiver... I'm trying to-" he shook his head. "Just let me finish."

"Sorry, sorry. Please continue."

"Okay, um...where was I?"

"Atom bombs dear. "

"Yes! Thank you. " He took another deep breath before seeming to find his place. " Each time I thought I had you figured out, you did something unexpected; and every time I thought I understood where we were in this dance we've been caught up in, you rewrote the rules. I don't think I've said thank you nearly enough, not only for the happiness you've added to my weary old life but also for putting up with me."

Oh this man, who even when nervous and clumsy or comparing her to bombs of mass destruction, could make her hearts quiver and tears come regardless of her supposed self control. Another reason she loved him so very much.

Looking down at the gift, The Doctor paused as if lost for a moment before placing it in her waiting hands. "I know it's not really appropriate as a way to express how much I...how much you _mean_ to me. "

River smiled softly at him, "I'm sure it's perfect, Sweetie."

He smiled back, his eyes flickered back and forth between her and the gift.

"You do have to open it in order to know what it is! "

"I do? " She brought it to eye level and continued to tease at his impatience. "I think I quite like it as it is. Bows are pretty. "

"It's a gift, I can give you bows later since you like them so much. "

"Maybe I only want this one. "

"Okay, " he sniffed and reached for the box. "I'll just save the gift for one of my _other_ wives, don't worry I'll save you the bo- "

"Other wives?" She raised both her brows and pulled her gift away from him. "What do you mean other wives?"

He shrugged, "Queen Elizabeth the first, Marilyn Monroe apparently, it's nothing to worry about. Technically with laws of Time Travel and all that they are only my wives in their time periods. "

"Really? " She put the gift behind her, letting the sheet fall away from her naked body as she got on her hands and knees, crawling forward till she had forced him to lean back with her hovering over him. "You do realize that this is grounds for divorce."

"Divorce? " He shook his head eyes skirting the length of her body, when they meet her eyes they were dark with desire. "Now that could get messy, we are married in all of space and time. "

"So that means Marilyn and Elizabeth are your wives while you're with me. You naughty boy!" She teased her lips over his.

"You like it when I'm naughty. Maybe I'll find myself a few more wives."

River would have laughed if she wasn't tingling all over with want. The idea of him and his utterly ridiculous flirting amused her but with his lanky body beneath hers, she could barely hold back a moan. "You try and I'll handcuff you to the bed. "

At what should have been an opportunity to continue their verbal foreplay, instead seemed to cause him pain. She could see the sadness from earlier sweep over him, the struggle of gaining control was evident in the slight twitch of his jaw.

It took a great deal of her own control to force herself to stay in this moment, to not get caught up in pursuing whatever was hurting him. Often it was wiser to let him work it out.

He didn't respond, not with words anyway, rather he surprised her by wrapping his arms around her and turning them so she laid beneath him. His face was solemn but his eyes, those eyes who've seen so much, shined down at her with love. No, it was _more_ than that, it was like that of a man on death row, memorizing the face of his loved one, one last time.

_Oh god, is he heading for Trenzalore?!_

River quickly tried to recall the hazy details left over from when the Silence trained and 'educated' her. Trenzalore was the place of his death, but when exactly he was to go there or anything that directly led up to it, she wasn't able to recall. Not anymore.

The Doctor had helped her strip away any left over hypnogenic programming; and, in doing so, much of what wasn't already hazy had become so. It left her with prolific feeling of deja vu but nothing in that moment to help her know if her fear was correct.

"Shhh " He hushed her thoughts with his thumb pressed to her lips. Of course he's able to read her the way she does him. "Don't... it's ok " he soothes and she feels his mind roll over hers like a warm blanket.

River lets him distract her with the mental comfort and the physical expressions of love. A small part of her hates that she needs this, to have him reassure and comfort her, when he was the one truly in need. Yet there is nothing she can do about it, except accept what he's offering because she knows he needs her to.

So she does. Loosing herself in the feel of his amazing hands and mouth.

Those hands caressing her sides, along her breasts and his breath coasting over the skin of her neck before he nips. Turning her head, she finds his mouth and he's demanding, needy and thorough, kissing her as if this is their last night together.

A sorrowing thought that is swept away by the attention her breasts are receiving. His mouth makes her moan and arch, her fingers curling into the waist band of his pants he foolishly put back on.

Why? Why are his pants on when she needs him, to _feel_ him.

She protests when her hands are pulled away and she opens her eyes to find his dark ones watching her. "All in good time love." River swears his voice is deliciously extra low just to make it that much harder on her.

"I _hate_ you! "

He laughs softly at her, "No, you don't."

"Oh, I definitely will if you don't get those pants off. " Even though he had deflected her, she's no intention of giving up, successfully slipping a hand in his pants and sighing with pleasure at her victory as he hisses.

"Ahhh...Riiveer That..no. no. not yet" he chokes out while she beams up at him.

"Are you sure you want me to stop? "

She's almost certain he doesn't realize his eyes are closed in reaction to what her hands are doing, even a Time Lord will struggle to think through _that_ . A thought that brings her delight, especially as she watches his face and breathing. She can tell he's trying to multitask this situation. _Bless._

"Mmm no. " He forces his eyes opens, "yes... _yes_.. Oh. Gah.. River will you..please stop! "

Of course she doesn't, not till he pulls her away for a second time. " I must be losing my touch " She can't help feigning disappointment.

Swallowing he mumbles "No, no I wouldn't say that. "

"Then let me have my wicked way with you. " She just wants to ignore the pain that seems to surround them, especially tonight.

To her surprise he persists on holding her off. " River... River I need-" He looked away; unable to quickly hide whatever was bothering was still heavily with him. It should reinforce the idea of forgetting the pain but instead it feels like a wall between them and it needs to crumble down.

"Hush now, it's fine. I can wait " it was her turn to sooth, cupping his face. "What's wrong? "

The Doctor closes his eyes and turns his face into a hand to place a kiss to her palm. "The gift, I know it seems silly but I need to know what you think." His eyes when they meet hers are so filled with emotion it causes her to tremble.

"Okay. Let me -"

The gift was suddenly in front of her and, he wore a slightly smug expression. The one she both wanted to smack and kiss at the same time. Sometimes he could rival Houdini or any illusionist, and he knew it.

River made to sit up to open it when he gently nudged her back and laid beside her to look up at the gift. He glanced at her and gave a nervous smile. She smiled back before laughing.

"You're starting to make me wonder if you got me something atrocious and I'm going to have to pretend to love it" She teased.

"I hope you don't think it's atrocious, and I certainly don't want you to pretend." He responded simply, with slight anxiety.

River hummed in thought about what her gift could possibly be to illicit this sort of nervous worry from him. "I guess we'll find out. " She snuggled in closer to him.

She undid the bow and gently unwrapped it from around the slim box , taking note of its weight. It was too heavy to be a watch or sensible jewelry. Baffled and curious, she carefully took the lid off and handed it over to him.

Parting the tissue paper, her eyes widen and her breath caught at the sight of what it is. Not once in their entire life together had she even thought about asking him for this. Nor did she imagine he'd ever part with one.

"How... " River blinked, a bit baffled as to what to say or even feel. "Why?" She wasn't sure what she was asking.

His hands reached up and pulled the sonic screwdriver completely out, setting the box aside. "Because -" she knew what he wanted to say.

They both avoided those words directly, it was some unspoken agreement or perhaps a mutual fear that prevented them. Sometimes she understood why but other times it drove her mental that neither of them seemed to have the courage to say 'I love you '.

"Because " he began again, his fingers tangling with her own around the screwdriver. " you deserve the best of everything I can give you. You are absolutely _everything_ to me River. "

She turned to look at him, holding her prize now close to her chest. Their eyes met and tears appeared at the sight of love shining back at her.

River swallowed and leaned into his hand that gently wiped away her tears. It wasn't lost on her the importance of this gift, it was a piece of himself he was giving her. More profound than a key or a ring, just as meaningful as his bowtie.

Words still refused to come, lending to the desire to pull him close, kiss him senseless and tell him what she shouldn't. Tell him that she loved him. She didn't of course, the words turning to saw dust in her mouth.

It hurt physically not to say them. To spit out their remains and add to the growing fear inside her that one day she'll miss her chance to say them out loud to him. Not just through actions or looks, letters or the intimacy of making love and touching each others souls. No, actual words, but there wasn't a way to say them and not pay the consequences for it.

Her only consolation was that she had taken the numerous opportunities to say 'I love you' to Rory and Amy. Maybe not on the day she lost them but on other days, days filled with the feeling of friendship and family. An unconventional one to be sure, but a family nonetheless.

At present though, she took a deep breath and looked once more at her prize, her gift. Her piece of him. It's then she notices the modifications he's made to it.

She chokes back a watery laugh, "You couldn't help yourself could you?"

"I'm sorry, what? " she can tell he's pretending to be clueless. They are both on their sides now, watching her fingers as she inspects the sonic screwdriver.

"The trigger? You added a trigger. I've seen you with this model, so don't tell me that this " She holds the bit in question upwards. "Is supposed to be there."

"That's not a trigger, it's a grip. " He can't seem to look her in the eyes as he says it. Such a give away.

Laughing, River leans in to give him a quick kiss, "it is so a trigger, you silly old man! I can even press down. " She does so, causing the sonic to come alive.

He's not denying it as a smile tugs on his lips. They both know the sonic now bears a slight resemblance to a weapon, a homage to all their playful and sometimes not playful bickering over her love of weapons and how he's treated his screwdriver like he could shoot something with it when he very well can't.

It's a private conversation that she can carry with her, something to ease the ache the next time she runs into a version of him that is wary of her, that doesn't love her.

"Thank you!" She manages to say even though her throat is tight and she's trembling.

He doesn't say anything in return, only instead gently takes the sonic from her hands and pulls her close, holding her tight in his arms. She can feel his hearts beating, a soothing sound to go along with the patterns his hands are tracing into the skin of her back.

When she finally pulls away, she feels his tears brush the side of her face before she sees them. She wants to ask about them again, about his pain. To wipe it away along with her fears, but he has other plans.

A hand slides up into her hair, his lips break the distance between them to meet her own. She doesn't protest nor does she hold back; her tongue runs along his lower lip and he opens up. They kiss to say I love you, to fight off pain, conquer fear, to steal every last grain of sand left in their time together.

Without breaking apart, more than what is necessary to breath, his pants are slipped off and her gift pushed off the bed. River wants only to feel him, her hands upon his skin and his upon her. Love pouring through fingertips as it flows between their minds, covers their soul's.

When the caress of skin against skin isn't enough, she turns them so he is under her, kissing and licking along him till her mouth finds his once more. Groaning into him as he slides within her, gasping into the air and promising herself with each stroke that she would one day know. She would know, even as he grips her hips and moans her name, why pain is brimming below the surface of his skin.

It wouldn't be till her own hearts are broken and he is handcuffed unconscious that she would understand what had shattered his hearts, poured hopelessness into his eyes to make him cry.

* * *

><p><strong>The day of The Library <strong>

**S**he's magnificent. For months her consciousness has survived in the clone, her body equally with them. Stable and secured and still her mind fights against them. He had known she'd be a challenge, that she had overcome years of programming and saved the man she was designed to kill, yet he hadn't quite believed it.

River Song, a woman who from birth had been conditioned and manipulated, should be vulnerable, weak to what they needed her for. Instead she had forced them to readjust their timetable twice and even, at expense, change location because she simply refused to be tamed. She was a force to be reckoned with, exceeding expectation.

He could feel her, despite the glass and light years between them. Her consciousness was currently at The Library with the Time Lord, but he could feel the power from her here with him. She wasn't weak and far from vulnerable. This woman was art, or perhaps, in this circumstance, she was a fortress, one he'd conquer.

"How soon? "

"25 to 28 minutes sir. The exact time isn't known." The technician answered carefully, a typical reaction in his presence.

"Of course, ironic considering the work we put into this. " He knelt closer to the monitor and the man sitting before it. "You said before that there would be changes to her once her consciousness is in the Library core, explain them. "

The tech swallowed nervously, he had already explained and knew it wasn't generally a good thing when a superior wanted him to do so again. " She...her shields will lower and due to the sleep state required to maintain the connection-"

He swallowed again thankful he wasn't on the receiving end of the Zeta-path. "her defenses against psyche manipulation will also be weaker. Her awareness of changes done to her will no longer be a problem. " The last had been a constant battle, the woman had required continuous monitoring to ensure her self awareness wouldn't interfere.

The Zeta-path gave a slight smile at the news. He could hardly wait to feel her power and everything that made her worth all this first hand. While he, himself was a tool, an instrument to do a job ,his interest in her had modified his end goal.

The Time Lord would be dead when he was done, just as ordered. Though for once, he would have what he only dreamed about; River Song.

* * *

><p>Please let me know what you think!<p> 


End file.
